


Fools Like Us

by lacewingss



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Eventual Romance, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Gun Violence, Original Character(s), Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Treasure Hunting, alcohol use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-14 07:05:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7158857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacewingss/pseuds/lacewingss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life doesn't end when you turn thirty-five. There is still adventure out there. Olette learns there's more adventure than she could ever have wanted when a friend of a friend of a friend hooks her up with a new job. A job helping criminal treasure hunters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Life's a Party

_It's okay_ , Olette thought, back pressed up against the heavy wood door. _It's okay. I got this._

It was not the first time tonight the mantra had played through her head, calming her heart beat. The first had been when the bouncer at the estate gates had read her forged invitation. The second when she lied through her teeth to get one of the hosts of the party to lead her farther into the mansion, and farther away from the illusion of safety. Olette had a sinking feeling it would not be the last time she repeated the words tonight.

The sound of booted feet came from the corridor outside, slow and uniform. She could not tell how many sets there were, but it was more than the one she had known was behind her. The sleaze she had spent all night flirting with must have called for security when she gave him the slip. One unarmed man she could reasonably deal with, but a handful of security officers?

Olette shifted and the weight of the gun strapped under her dress pressed against her thigh, reminding her of its presence. _No_ , that was a last resort. Even then, she was not certain she had what it took to use it. Sam and Sully had insisted she bring it along, but the look in their eyes when they handed it over told her they, too, had their doubts.

A minute passed. Then two. After three she decided if no one had barged into the room and shot her yet, they were not going to.

Olette put her ear to the door, listening for any sign of the footsteps that had been following her. She shut her eyes, as if the lack of distractions would help her hear better. There was nothing. Cold silence on the other side of the door was all she could pick up. Even the muffled sounds of the party a few floors down was gone. _Good._

She was alone, or at least as alone as she could be in an estate full of people and armed security. Armed security. She shook her head, bewildered yet again. What kind of party had armed security? _The kind where guests tried to steal priceless artifacts,_ Olette reminded herself. That _was_ exactly what she was attempting to do, wasn't it?

“Olly? You there?” Sam's voice jolted her out of her thoughts. She fiddled with the small bluetooth in her ear, making sure it was still secure.

“Yeah, yeah I'm here.” Her voice was too shaky for her liking. She took a deep breath and tried again. “I'm upstairs. Just lost the creep who's been on me all night. I think I'm good now.”

“Good job sweetheart,” Sully's comforting voice butted in. “You take a minute if you have to. We'll still be here.”

_Good old Sullivan._ While she had only known the man for a handful of weeks she had come to trust him more than most men in her life. He might not have the best intentions towards the work he did and was, in fact, a criminal, but that was easy to overlook. He had never been anything but charming and polite to Olette.

She appreciated his concern, and had he voiced it a minute before would have taken him up on the offer. But she had rested enough while attempting to calm herself down, and was more than ready to finish this plan and get back to the hotel.

“Thank you. I'm okay though.”

“'Course you are. Told you you'd do fine,” Sam said. In the dark of the room Olette let herself smile at Sam's words. “Now let's find that necklace and get you outta there.”

Sam and Sully could not see her, but she nodded anyway. It was time to get moving again. She took a few slow steps into the room, relying on the moonlight filtering in through the windows to see. It was not a large space – she could have walked across it with another couple steps. The carpet was plush, the walls lined with bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling.

“I'm in the west tower. Fourth floor. This room is some sort of study. It's got all these old books...” Olette trailed off as she ran her finger down the spine of a book that had to be over a century old. The ones around it were similar, some in languages she could not make out. She was about to pull one out of its place on the shelf when Sam's voice interrupted her.

“Heh, we're here for the jewel, not the books, Olly. I'll take you to a book store later.”

“Very funny.” Olette shoved the book back into line with the others and stepped away. She walked over to a curtained window and peaked out, trying to see if she could spot where the men were waiting. It was no use. They were too far.

“Do the blueprints say how close I am to the storage room?” She asked, letting the thin fabric of the curtain fall back into place.

“Gimme a sec.” The sound of papers shuffling came through the earpiece, along with the mumbled arguing of Sam and Sully. It took them a moment to agree on Olette's location, during which she anxiously drummed her fingers on the wood of the bookshelves. “Yeah, ok, you're close. You just gotta go down three rooms, round a corner, and its on the north side of the hall.”

_Three rooms, round a corner, north side._ It didn't sound far, and in reality it wasn't. Half a hundred yards, maybe, give or take. Olette knew that, but in her mind the distance stretched on past the horizon. Anything could happen while she was out in the open. Alone. 

_What have I got myself into?_

She took another deep breath, holding it in until her pulse felt normal again. “Right. I'm going to leave the room now.”

“Hey.” Olette stopped with her hand on the door, about to push. Sam's voice lost its playful and confident undertone, replaced instead with what she was surprised to recognize as worry. “Be careful. That guy might still be around, and the guards too.”

“I've been being careful this whole time, Sam. I'm not going to stop now.” Olette was rewarded with the low sound of Sam chuckling. Even now she could picture him waiting back at the lookout, watching the tower as if he could see her movements within. A cigarette in his lips, bouncing slightly as he talked to her through the headset.

She shook her head, trying to get rid of the image. Now was not the time.

With a gentle push the door slid open, reveling a dark and thankfully empty corridor. Olette took a hesitant step out, her eyes darting from one spot to another, making sure no one was slinking around in the same manner she was. When she was confident enough she started her slow, careful way down the corridor towards the far wall. Her mantra of the night settled back into repeat in her mind.

_Everything was ok. She had this._ And if she didn't, well, Sam and Sully would talk her through it.

 


	2. Discovery

Olette's heartbeat had to be loud enough that people three floors down could hear it.

She hurried down the long corridor in the second hand light of the moon, the thudding in her chest drowning out the tapping of her heels on the floor. That's what she should have been worried about – the rhythmic echo that gave away her position. It didn't cross her mind though, as focused as it was on reaching her destination.

_One, two, three._ She counted the doors along the hall as she rushed past them. Three rooms and a corner. Olette would have sighed in relief when she reached the corner safely if she had the breath to spare.

Around the bend was another long hall, doors lined and closed on each side. A window at the far end let in beams of light, giving the whole hall an unearthly sliver glow. Olette pressed on, situating herself towards the north side of the mansion. There were two doors on that side: one close by the window and one a few steps away. Sam had not mentioned which door was the one to the storage room.

Cursing to herself, Olette headed towards the door at the end of the hall. She had no way of knowing which was the correct one, but her gut told her  _ of course _ it would be the one farther away. She reached it within seconds and pulled the ornate handle. 

It was locked. 

“How you doing sweetheart?” Sully's voice interrupted her silent stream of obscenities aimed at the door. She pulled her hand away and began to dig into the side of her dress, where a small kit was secured in her bra.

“I'm at the right room, I think. The door is locked,” she whispered.

It was Sam that spoke into her ear next. “Nothing you can't handle. You got that lock pick set of mine?”

“Mhm.” Olette fiddled with the rods she had placed inside the keyhole. She took one out, looked at it, and replaced it with a different one. Soon she heard the distinct click of the lock being tripped. She had to remember to thank Sam for the lessons when this was over. It was definitely a skill worth having, and all the hours spent hunched over piles of locks with his hand's guiding hers were...well, not something she needed to be thinking about right now. “Got it. I'm going in.”

The door swung inward and Olette slipped inside as she put the lock pick kit back in its hiding spot. She closed the door behind her, cringing when it squeaked on un-oiled hinges.

Much like the hallway the room was bathed in silver light. Large windows lined the east wall, curtains pulled back. There were a few bookcases here, too, though these were not the main attraction as they were in the study. Display cases and lidded chests were scattered around the room almost at random – Olette had to wind through the maze carefully so not to bump into any.

What caused her eyes to widen and a her breath to catch in her throat was the sheer amount of priceless antiques. They were everywhere. Locked away behind cgass, piled onto the spare surfaces of chests and shelves. She could have picked up anything within arms reach and held a million dollars in her hand.

“Wow.”

“What is it? What do you see? Is the necklace there?” Sam was eager, excited.

Olette grinned, imagining his face lighting up at the thought of the treasure surrounding her. “You would love it in here, guys.”

“You're making me jealous, Olly.”

“If only,” she replied, risking a muffled laugh.

While she had been talking Olette had continued to wander through the room, her eyes scanning each surface for the one thing she needed. Almost by chance a stream of moonlight from the windows caught her attention and drew it towards a pool of light where an open display case sat. Something on it glittered, throwing shimmering rainbows onto the wall.

Suddenly Olette felt as excited as Sam sounded. She approached the case without the caution she had nurtured all evening, almost tripping over a partially rolled up rug on the way. When she reached the pool of moonlight she couldn't stop from gasping at what was resting in the case.

“Wow,” she repeated. “I found the necklace.”

It was the biggest gem Olette had ever seen. Even in the diluted light of the moon the countless facets shone and danced, the color constantly cycling through a spectrum of blues and whites. A delicate lattice of woven gold made up the setting and chain it hung from, interlaced with small diamonds that brought to mind twinkling stars. It was absolutely beautiful.

With a trembling hand she reached out and picked it up. It was heavier than she would have guessed. The sapphire itself was as large as the palm of her hand, slightly cold and very hard. Olette closed her fingers around it and breathed a sigh of relief. _The hard part was over._

“There she is!”

The sudden shout coming from the other side of the room startled Olette and she almost dropped the necklace to the floor. She turned toward the voice and her heart leaped into her throat. Standing in the now open doorway was a man in the garb of a security officer, looking right at her. She had been caught.

“Hey!” He yelled again, advancing a step while still waiting on his presumed backup.

Every muscle in Olette's body froze. For one seemingly endless instant all she could do was stare at the guard, terrified. Then, like a switch being flipped, she tightened her grip on the necklace and ran straight at the guard. He was a head taller than her and outweighed her by at least fifty pounds, but the adrenaline in her system let her rush by him, pushing him to the floor in utter surprise.

The sound of her heels on the floor as she ran down the corridor was like machine gun fire. Above it Olette could hear the guard getting to his feet and shouting to the others.

“She's got something, don't let her get away!”

 


	3. Flight

“Olly? What's that noise? Who's talking?” Sam's voice was loud in her ear. Had it been this loud the whole time, or was her fear making everything around her that much more vivid?

“Shit! Guys, they saw me,” she said, no longer caring to whisper. “They're right behind me.”

There was silence on the line for a moment as she continued to run. Sully finally spoke to the backdrop of Sam's cursing. “Get yourself out of there, girl. Stay ahead of them.”

 _Stay ahead of them._ What else did he think she was going to do?

The maze of corridors was much harder to navigate in Olette's panicked state. She forgot which doors led where, which halls ended in blank walls. The best she could do was turn down the corners that _didn't_ have the sound of voices and footfalls coming from them. Her hair whipped behind her as she moved, the carefully styled dark curls both unfurling and tangling at once. She hadn't expected to be doing anything but slinking quietly around tonight, and she had to spare a second to pull up the plunging neckline of her dress before it slipped down completely.

Just as she was passing through an open archway that led further down the corridor something hit the wall next to her, shattering a light fixture and spraying pieces of glass onto the floor. Olette ducked behind the wall on the other side of the arch instinctively, though not quite fast enough to stop a shard of glass from slashing her forearm. The sound ringing in her ears was unmistakably the sound of a gun shot.

“What-” she started, shocked. “They just shot at me! They're _shooting_ at me!”

Olette had never been shot at before. There weren't many instances when a high school teacher was in a situation that warranted a gun fight. The realization of just how much danger she was in suddenly hit her. She had known, of course. She _was_ stealing a priceless gemstone. The thought that someone would kill her over it hadn't occurred to her until now, but in retrospect, it should have. She had seen the bullet wounds on Sam. This type of lifestyle was dangerous.

“Shit. Okay, new plan. I'm coming to get you,” Sam said from outside of the estate.

“You better hurry then, son,” Sully urged, and Olette agreed. Even if she would still be in danger, it would feel better to have someone at her side. Someone who had done things like this before, who had been shot at before. Sam would know what to do when he found her.

Afraid to continue down the open hall, which afforded little cover if the guards decided to shoot at her again, Olette pulled at the handle of the first door she came upon. She thanked god as it opened without so much as a creak. Once through it she shut it behind her, flipping a latch to lock it and slumping down to the floor.

Her eyes were squeezed shut as she tried to slow her breathing. _Okay_ , she thought. _Okay. Just calm down and you'll get out of here fine._

It took a minute, but Olette was able to open her eyes and look around. She had gone into another study-like room, full of dusty books and stacks of folders and journals. It looked less used than the previous study, and instead of all windows on the far wall there was a door leading...somewhere.

Olette considered her options. Sam was coming. What she wanted was to wait for him, to let him guide her out of here and take on the guards. It was wishful thinking, though, as even now she could hear the heavy steps of their booted feet searching the hall outside the door for her.

“I can't stay here and wait for you, Sam,” she said into the bluetooth device in her ear. “I can hear them, they'll find me soon.”

When he answered Sam sounded slightly out of breath. He must be running towards her at full speed. “Meet me at the base of the tower then. You can get down stairs.”

 _The base of the tower?_ That was almost a world a way. “I-”

“ _You can get downstairs_ , Olly.” Sam was stern in his reassurance. “Hey, I'll owe you a drink if you get there before me, right?”

Olette gave a noise of agreement. Yes, she could do that. And she'd be damned it she lost the opportunity to make Sam buy her a drink. She pushed herself back to feet and secured her death grip on the necklace. If she accidentally dropped it this whole evening would be for nothing. With it clutched in her fist, she headed towards the door on the other side of the room.

The next ten minutes were the longest in Olette's life. Every corner she turned, every door she opened, she imagined was the one the guards would be behind. Some force in the universe must have been looking out for her, though, as the only time she spotted a guard she was able to hide inside a dark room until he passed. When she finally found the way down to the first floor she knew her flight was almost over.

The stair case was daunting. It spiraled down three flights, steps close and steep. The marble was flawless; it looked like it was recently buffed to reflect the shoes of those walking down it. A thin handrail was more decoration than safety.

Olette glanced back, thankful to find the corridor still empty. It was only a matter of time before the guards caught up with her. Sam was waiting at the bottom of these stairs, though, and with him lay the promise of escape.

She knew if she tried to run down she'd stumble and fall. The stairs were too slick, her heels too narrow. As quick as she could Olette reached down and slipped off her shoes, shivering as her bare feet touched the floor. She stuffed them as a well as she could into the small clutch at her side, praying that they didn't fall out and get left behind. They really were lovely heels.

With the thought of safety and Sam urging her on, Olette rushed down that staircase. The friction of her feet on the marble was enough to keep her from tripping, momentum from her downward flight speeding her along. Even so, it took her longer than she thought it would to reach the bottom floor. She was beginning to get dizzy from the curves of the stairs by the time they ended in a large, lonely chamber.

It was a relief there were no guards or party goers in the room, but there was also no Sam.

“Sam? Where are you? I'm at the bottom of the stairs.” There was a hint of panic edging into Olette's voice, one that she had so far kept at bay. _Would Sam and Sully had left her here?_ When they heard the guards did they decide it was a lost cause and cut their loses?

“Be right there.” _Of course they wouldn't._

Olette only had time to count to five before Sam barreled into the room from a door on the east side. His gun was out, held tightly in a hand at his side. He looked no worse for wear despite the trouble it must have been to reach Olette so quickly, past guards and high estate walls. In the meticulously decorated mansion his street clothes and denim jacket stood out like a sore thumb.

“Guess I owe you a drink, huh?” The smirk on Sam's face was like a life preserver. Olette latched onto it and for the first time in hours she felt a wash of security. Sam was here. He would get them out of this mess. _This is what he did._

She smiled back, albeit less confidently. “You owe me more than one.”

 


	4. Escape

Safe for the moment, Olette let herself lean against the pillar at the bottom of the stairs. She had not noticed how fast her heart was beating until she stopped her flight, or how drops of sweat were trailing down the open back of her dress. Her feet hurt, and as she looked down to see why she remembered she had taken her shoes off to better run. The heels were no longer stuffed into her bag – they must have fallen out somewhere between here and the top of the stairs. Try as she might Olette could not recall the sound of them hitting the floor, or the weight of them leaving her purse. Everything after picking up the necklace was starting to become a blur.

“Shit, you're bleeding.” Olette jumped at the sound of Sam's voice coming not from her ear but at her side. He had moved from the door to the base of the stairs and had her arm in his hands. The pressure of his touch pulled her from the fog descending over her thoughts, and she shook her head to clear it completely. She still had to get out of this place; there would be time to attempt to recall the events of the night later.

“One of those shots hit you?” Sam asked.

“Huh? No....” Olette looked down to where his fingers were resting on her arm. She was surprised to find a jagged cut running from her wrist to her elbow, and even more to see brilliant red drops of blood splatter to the floor. She didn't feel anything. No pain, no burning of the skin. She supposed she would feel it later, when the adrenaline wore off. Until then she was merely relieved to see that despite how gory it looked, none of the blood had managed to get onto her dress.

“I'm not sure what happened,” she said. Whatever had cut her was lost in the blur of fright along with her missing shoes

Next to her Sam was busy ripping off a strip of his shirt. For a brief second Olette saw the hard muscles of his abdomen, covered in a thick patch of hair. It was gone again as he pulled his jacket over it, though not before Olette's finally slowing heart skipped ahead a beat.

She watched Sam as he took the strip of fabric and wrapped it around her arm, securing it with a tight knot. The cotton was already getting darker with the blood from her cut. _I'll have to buy him a new shirt,_ she thought, before realizing there were other things to worry about.

“That should stop it for a while. Sully'll have some bandages in the car.”

Olette thanked him with a nod, testing out the make shift bandage by flexing her arm. It started to ache. At least by the end of this she would have some new scars to show off.

“Hey, you have the necklace?”

_The necklace._ Olette looked to her other hand, which was still clutching the diamond and sapphire incrusted chain. She grinned, the panic she had felt until now sloughing off her as she remembered she had done what she had set out to do. The weight of it in her hand was just what she needed to bring her back.

“Oh, yeah. Of course I do,” she answered, and held the necklace out to Sam.

He didn't take it, but whistled low and appreciatively. The twinkle in his eye was nearly as bright as the diamonds themselves. “ _That's something else_. Keep a good hold on that and let's get out of here before they find you again.”

After a quick debate about the layout of the estate and the best way to sneak out, Sam took point and he and Olette started towards the servant's exit. The farther they went without any disturbances the more Olette started to relax. She felt safer with Sam, slightly in front of her, moving just fast enough she had to focus to keep up. She took the time to study him a bit closer; a grass stain on the elbow of his jacket hinted of a struggle up the vine covered estate walls, a spot of mud stuck to his worn and scuffed shoes telling the story of his mad dash to her. Maybe it was just the necklace he was worried about getting to. Maybe that was the priority. Still, she had to believe the woman clutching the necklace was important too.

“Nice work getting that guy to bring you upstairs,” Sam said. He turned back to her and flashed a grin. “You have to actually give him a look at anything?”

It took her a moment to figure out what Sam was asking about. Olette had almost forgotten the hushed and suggestive conversation she had shared with the man from the party. She had definitely forgotten that Sam and Sully had been listening in even then. The things she had said would have made her blush, had she still been the self conscious girl she once was. Now they were merely tools in her arsenal.

“Why, are you jealous?” She teased, skipping a step to catch up with Sam. Their cat and mouse game of flirting had started soon after they met. Olette didn't expect it to stop just because they were currently being hunted down by guards with guns.

Sam laughed as he turned a corner into another empty hallway. “Poor guy probably thought he had a real chance with you, huh?”

“Oh, I don't know, maybe he-”

“Shhh,” Sam hissed, stopping in his tracks. His arm sprang out in front of Olette, blocking her from taking another step. She opened her mouth to object, but then thought better of it. A quick scan of the hallway showed her nothing out of the ordinary, yet Sam was tense and rigid.

“Get down!” He yelled, and Olette felt herself being pulled to the ground and tossed behind a thick wood display case. The impact slammed her elbow into the wall, causing black stars of pain to flicker in her vision. Sam was next to her, pushed close to remain in the scant cover the case offered. He smelled thickly of sweat and cigarette smoke. Coupled with the pain, it made her head spin.

Before she could get a hold on what was happening, a spray of bullets passed by, right where she had been standing not a second before. They hit the wall behind them, chunks of plaster and stone becoming shrapnel as holes appeared in the wall centimeters deep.

She was being shot at. _Again._

Olette silently thanked Sam for being there. She had not noticed the guards waiting at the end of the hall, slumped behind more convenient cover. Without Sam pulling her down the bullets in the wall could have easily been lodged in her instead.

Unconsciously, she gripped the necklace tighter. _They were so close._ They had the necklace, and the servant's exit was just beyond the armed guards. They couldn't fail now. Weeks of hard work on her end, and months on the boy's, couldn't just be wasted.

Sam was already moving at her side. He was up on one knee, leaning out beyond the display case, the gun in his hand aimed forward. The three rounds he fired were louder than anything Olette had ever heard before. She watched as his shoulder rolled back with the recoil, Sam taking it like it was nothing, like he was used to it. _He was,_ she reminded herself. Sam was no stranger to guns, he had told her himself. Seeing him in action, though, was something else entirely.

He ducked back into cover just in time, the blast of another spray from the guards whizzing over their heads. Olette could even feel the heat as they passed. She pressed her back farther into the display case, wishing she could meld into it and be safe.

“You kids alright? I'm hearing a lot of gun shots.” Sully's voice spoke through Olette's earpiece, a mix of concern and amusement.

“Doing just fine, Sully. Little busy though.” While he spoke Sam checked the pistol in his hand. He cursed and tossed it aside.

“Pardon me,” he said, reaching over Olette's body and towards her leg.

“What-” she started, but was too shocked to finish her question.

Sam's hand was under her dress, pushing the thin fabric aside without hesitation. She felt the rough callouses on his fingertips brush across the skin of her legs, moving up and up until his palm was on her thigh. His body was still pressed against hers, which was now flushed not because of her recent exertion but the realization of just how _close_ Sam was.

There was a pressure on her thigh, then a release, as the band that held her gun in place came undone. _The gun._ That's what he was doing. Olette had not thought of the pistol strapped to her leg since she was upstairs, but Sam remembered. Already his hand was retreating and he was turning back to the attackers.

Over the new series of shots Olette scolded herself for not remembering the gun herself. She could have helped. She could have done something besides cower behind the display case as Sam did all the work. Next time, she thought, next time she would do better. Assuming, of course, there was a next time.

“Okay, we're good. Let's go.” The gun shots had stopped. The hallway was eerily quiet now, even the ringing in her ears fading out into silence.

She was alive. Sam was alive. Olette peeked her head over the display case and looked towards the door. The guards were not.

“Come on Olly, we don't have far to go. I'll get you out of here and you can freak out later.” Sam stood up and offered her a hand. Again, he acted like none of this was out of the ordinary. How many people had he killed that adding another couple to the count didn't phase him?

“I'm not freaking out,” she answered, though the tremble in her voice betrayed her.

“This is your first fire fight. If you don't freak out I'd be worried.” Sam ran a hand through his hair, doing nothing to tame it. He followed her gaze to the bodies on the other side of the hallway, and sighed. “But you'll get used to it.”

Shoving her feelings of fear and guilt as far back into her mind as she could, to be dealt with later, Olette reached out and accepted Sam's help up. They stepped lightly past the bodies and out the door at the far end of the hall.

The wash of cool night air was a tonic. Olette took a deep breath, looked up at the faint and flickering stars. When she looked back Sam was already ahead of her, padding through the manicured lawn towards the distant estate walls.

She took off after him, the pain of her bare feet lessening somewhat as the plush grass beneath them soothed the hot blisters. Olette ran easily, catching up to Sam. It felt good to be on the move again, safety only a stretch of lawn away. The grounds were quiet around them; the guards were all still inside. When they reached the perimeter of the estate they stopped, their progress blocked by a fifteen foot wall.

“Here we go,” Sam said. He backed against the wall and interlaced his hands, holding them out. “I'll give you a boost up.”

Without her heels the top of Olette's head only came up to Sam's chin. Had she been any shorter even the added boost would not have allowed her to reach the top of the wall. As it was, she still had to stretch her arms as far as she could to get a grip on the stone.

“That dress fits you real well, you know?” Sam said while she was still standing on his shoulders, reaching. She chanced a glance down, and his eyes were focused on the curve of her ass. As she pulled herself up and off of Sam she made sure to give him a good view.

It was her turn to offer a hand, and Sam took it with a grin. She helped pull him up and over the wall, and as simple as that they were out of the estate. The short run back to Sully and the car was filled with celebratory laughter and an energy Olette wasn't certain how she still had.

“Over here, kids.” Sully's voice rang out, guiding them towards the glow of headlights. They slowed their pace to a stop, finding him leaning against the open door of the running car.

“You alright?” He asked, looking first to Olette.

“Better than alright,” she answered, and held up the necklace of him to see.

He reached out to touch it, examining the large gem and the delicate chain. “You did good, sweetheart.”

“Damn right she did.” Sam beamed at her and wrapped his arm around her waist. The chill night air seemed warmer to Olette with Sam next to her, the glow of victory in his eyes.

Sully opened the back door of the car and gestured Olette inside. “Let's get back to the hotel before those goons figure out where you two went, eh?”

 


	5. All Nighter

There wasn't much in the world a hot shower couldn't fix.

Olette spent an hour in the cramped hotel shower, water scalding her skin. She turned it up until it burned, until the steam clouded her vision like a deep fog. She washed the dried blood from her arm, scrubbed at the dirt on her feet. The tangles in her hair loosened and gave way. She sobbed until no tears were left, the sound of the rushing water helping to drown out the noise.

It was true, the saying about not knowing how someone will respond when faced with witnessing death. In the heat of the moment, Sam beside her and the roar of gun shots in her ears, Olette felt fear most of all. Fear and the need to survive. She had spared only a few hesitant looks at the bullet riddled bodies before fleeing, thinking only that she and Sam needed to get out of there.

Now she saw them each time she shut her eyes. Lifeless, cold faces stared back at her. Those people were dead because of her. She had not killed them herself, Sam had done that, but if she had been _better_ they would not have died. If she had retrieved the necklace and got out without anyone noticing, they would still be alive.

How did Sam handle it? _You'll get used to it_ , he said. Olette didn't think she would.

After an hour under the water her skin was pink and raw, but she felt better. Not the same, but well enough to pretend, and to move on. Her eyes were dry, and the visions of the dead guards had faded.

She stepped out of the shower and dried off, pulling on clothes that were thankfully more comfortable than the dress she had spent the evening in. The room was quiet – Sam and Sully shared the room next door, letting her have one to herself. Sully insisted it was only proper, that playing the gentlemen was too bred into him to make Olette sleep in the same room as two old men. Olette would not have minded either way, but it was nice to have privacy when she wanted it.

She was about to get into bed when she noticed the necklace still sitting on the small table by the door. She must have forgotten to hand it over once they got to the hotel. The dim lamp light flickered off the gems, making the drab hotel room a little more elegant.

There had not been much time to really examine the necklace before chaos started at the estate. Now, alone and calm, Olette picked it up and turned it over in her hands. She spent a minute admiring the cut of the sapphire, the way the diamonds were so intricately placed in the gold lattice that made up the chain.

How many famous women in history had worn this necklace, the sapphire perched above their breasts, showcasing their wealth and importance? And now it was in Olette's hands, hands that had only once been adorned with just a signal diamond. She lifted it up under her neck, imagining herself in their place.

_Trying it on wouldn't do any harm._

Olette pulled back her hair, still damp from the shower, and brought the necklace around her. She fiddled with the clasp and when it finally hooked, she took her hands away. It was heavy around her neck, almost dragging her forward in her tired state. The sapphire felt somehow warm on her skin were it hung, right about the curve of her breasts. The gems danced in the lamplight, twins to the twinkle in her eyes as she looked at herself in the nearby mirror.

The sound of the doorknob rattling broke Olette out of her day dream. She turned to the door just in time to see Sam walking in, a plastic bag in one hand and a six pack of beer in the other.

Her hands immediately went to her neck, trying to find the clasp behind her hair. She didn't suspect the boys would be too happy with her playing dress up with the priceless artifact.

“Oh! I'm sorry. I shouldn't-” she started, but was interrupted by a wave of the bag in Sam's hand as he moved farther into the room.

“Nah, no ahead. You've earned it. Looks nice on you, too.” He smiled at her, his eyes roaming over the necklace and the bare skin beneath it. He put down the bag and beer on the table, shut the hotel door, and walked to stand by Olette near the mirror.

She had gone back to looking at herself in it, fixated on the sparkling of the necklace. “It's so beautiful,” she said, already loathe to take it off. It was unlikely there would be another time in her life she would wear something so extravagant.

“Yeah,” Sam said. If Olette had been looking up she would have seen his eyes on her, and not the jewels around her neck. He took a step behind her, his hands reaching up to remove the necklace. “Here, let me help.”

Olette went stiff. Sam's hands were in her hair, brushing it aside in a surprisingly delicate manner. She had to stifle a soft whimper as his fingers brushed the base of her neck, rough and gentle all at once. For the second time tonight he was so very _close_ to her. She could even feel his breath, hot and smelling of stale smoke, on her skin. The image of him leaning down, pressing his lips to her neck entered her mind without permission.

The rush of attraction she felt for him wasn't new – but the affection was. After tonight, after Sam risked his life going into the estate to help her escape, she couldn't deny her feelings were starting to shift from a casual game of flirtation to something deeper.

When he unclasped the necklace Sam reached around Olette's shoulders to take better hold of it so it didn't fall to the floor. It was almost like an embrace. He backed away, all too soon, and placed the necklace back on the table.

“Thanks,” Olette said, moving her hair back from where Sam had put it. She followed him to the small table in the corner of the room and took a seat across from him. It was only now that she realized Sam had cleaned himself up, too. His hair was freshly washed, his clothes clean and only slightly wrinkled. She noted that he had not bothered to shave, however. At least four days worth of stubble lined his jaw.

“So the necklace is going to show us where to go next, right?” She asked, doing her best to tear her eyes away from Sam.

“Yeah it is. It'll help us with the map.” He grinned, leaned forward across the table. There was a hint of mischief in his expression that made him look much younger than his forty odd years. “You ready to get on to the good stuff?”

It was hard not to be excited. Sam's enthusiasm was infectious.

“I can't wait.” _As long as the good stuff involves less guns,_ Olette thought.

“Well, we'll have to get though waiting tonight somehow,” Sam said. “Victor's already sleeping like a little angel in the other room. He'd be impossible to deal with if we figured anything out without him.”

So that was why Sam was in here, instead of his room. Had he even bothered to knock on his way in? Olette didn't remember hearing a knock.

“So, what do we do now then?” she asked.

Sam reached for the six pack, pulling out two bottles and sliding one to Olette. “Now we have a beer.”

One beer later Sam had scooted his chair around the table so he was sitting side by side with Olette. She was starting to feel a warm, happy buzz, and whether that had to do more with the alcohol or Sam she really didn't care.

As she reached for a second beer Sam caught her arm and inspected the new bandage on it. The scraps of his torn shirt were somewhere in the garbage.

“Your arm feeling alright? I picked up some painkillers at the store for you, thought you might want them.”

Olette took her arm back and waved his concern away. “Thank you. It's okay though, Sully cleaned it up for me while you were out. He said guys like a girl with scars so I shouldn't worry about it."

“Good advice. Now you just need a scar right here,” Sam leaned over and ran his finger over Olette's cheek in a jagged lightening bolt shape, “and you'll be the hottest teacher turned treasure hunter out there.”

Olette had to struggle to keep a blush from coloring her cheek where Sam had touched her. She recovered as quick as she could and took a large gulp of her beer before answering.

“Oh really? Well the next time someone comes at me with a knife I'll kindly ask them to aim for my face.”

“Ah, sarcasm? Olly, baby, I wasn't kidding.” Sam laughed and leaned back in his chair, a second drink in his hands now, too.

It was quiet for a moment as they both drank; a comfortable silence that was broken only by the distant sound of a car passing outside.

“Why'd you take this gig anyway?” Sam asked as he placed his beer on the table. “I mean obviously you're tough, but...”

It was not something they had ever really talked about. The month she had been working with Sam and Sully had been so full and hectic there had not been time to talk about much besides their plan to steal the necklace. Olette had the impression her past didn't matter to them, anyway. They were the type of men who had secrets and histories of their own, and knew when to leave well enough alone with others.

Except Olette didn't have any secrets or a fantastical history. And that in itself was the reason she was here.

“Well, the school I worked at got adsorbed into another one and they didn't need me anymore.” Ten years and all Olette had to show for it was a depressingly tiny severance package and the knowledge of what kind of music teenagers listened to nowadays. Her whole career ended up fitting in one large brown box that she had stuffed into the attic of her house.

“Teaching was all I'd ever done,” she continued. “When I didn't have that anymore it started to feel like I'd spent my whole life doing....well, nothing.” Her two masters degrees – history and geology – would have disagreed, if they had not been stuffed into that same box in the attic.

None of those things, her career, her education, felt like they meant anything anymore. She had wanted something, anything, to make her feel like life was more than sitting at home and binge watching Netflix, her life slowly passing her by. That was why she had jumped at the chance of working with Sam and Sully, even before she had really known what that entailed. A chance to use her knowledge _and_ maybe have an adventure along the way? She could not sign up fast enough.

“Call it a mid life crisis maybe. I mean, we're not getting any younger.” Olette finished her story with another gulp of beer, glad to have it off her chest.

Sam had been quiet while she spoke, but now he chuckled and looked at her with mock indignation. “Speak for yourself.”

She shrugged, smiled. “I thought this might brighten my life up a bit, is all.

“And? Did getting shot at and working with the world's most handsome treasure hunter brighten things up?” Sam was leaning forward again, elbow on the table and eyes roaming Olette's face like the maps he was obsessed with.

“Hmm, yeah.” Olette considered, then nodded her head and smirked. “It's been nice being able to stare at Sully's ass.”

“You dog!” Sam barked, laughing. Olette joined in and soon they were both doubled over in tears. It felt good to laugh, to forget the night's events and just enjoy Sam's company and shitty gas station beer.

Once they had both recovered, Olette looked to Sam with curiosity.

“What about you? I never asked, but what got you into this?”

She knew Sam and Sully had been at this a while, probably years. This was clearly their life – the research, the treasure hunting. But it had to have started somewhere. Everything had a beginning.

“Heh. That is a long story, Olly.” Was there a hint of pain in Sam's eyes? It could have been a trick of the dim light.

Olette glanced at the glowing green numbers of the clock near the bed. It was late. She should be exhausted, but right now sleep was far from her mind. She turned back to Sam and grinned.

“We still have four hours until the sun comes up. And the rest of this beer.”

* * *

 

“No way. I don't believe it. Henry Avery's treasure? And you just let it sink?”

They were on the bed now, leaning up against the headboard, legs stretched out over the blankets in front of them. Olette had somehow become nestled into Sam's side, his arm slung around her as she laughed in astonishment.

“Believe it, baby.”

She couldn't remember when they had moved to sit on the bed, or when dawn light had started to seep in from behind the drawn curtains. They had been talking all night; mostly Sam, who told her what seemed to be his whole life story. There must be parts he was leaving out, Olette knew, but that didn't matter. It was enough just to listen to him tell her about himself, to feel his body shake with laughter next to her.

“Your life is a mess,” she said, only half joking.

“Ah but you're in it now, so that makes yours a mess too,” Sam said, pulling her in closer. “And mine that much better.”

Olette looked up to see him staring down at her, his arm tight around her shoulders. His face was tilted towards her, lips slightly parted. She could feel the heat coming off his body, and she, too, was warm all of a sudden. Her heart fluttered, her body unconsciously moving closer still to Sam. His free hand reached up to rest on the back of her head, fingers burrowing into her hair. The room around them was still, silent but for Olette's quick intake of breath. She lifted her chin slightly, her eyes never leaving Sam's face, inches away.

There was a loud knock on the door. They both jumped, Sam's hand jolting back to his side and out of her hair. Olette flinched away from him, leaving a gap between them on the bed.

Sully walked in, not waiting for an answer. He was dressed in new clothes and looked well rested. He sighed and shook his head when he spotted them, still awake.

“You kids sleep at all last night? Come on, we've got work to do.”

Sam groaned and gave Sully a look Olette could not decipher. Maybe it had something to do with what he had just interrupted. What _had_ he just interrupted, she wondered. Had something really almost happened between her and Sam?

Olette slowly got out of bed and stretched, finally starting to feel the effect of staying up all night. _It was going to be a long day._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops the chapters keep getting longer. Thank you so much to those who had left kudos and comments, it means so much to me <3 <3


	6. Planning

_Coffee,_ Olette thought. _Coffee was the least Sully could have done._

The group of three sat around the hotel table, Sam and Sully's voices droning on in varying tones of exasperation and excitement. An old map, edges curled and browned with age, was laid out in front of them. Olette tried to focus on the words and shapes on the parchment, but when she stared for too long everything started to swim in front of her eyes. She rubbed at them, then placed her head in her hands. The dull throb of an oncoming headache edged its way from the base of her head upward until it pushed at her temples.

“What do you think, Olly?”

“Hm?” She looked up at the sound of Sam addressing her, squinting at the bright morning light coming in through the windows. Not for the first time she regretted staying up all night. She wasn't twenty anymore; her body rebelled when she acted like she was.

“I'm sorry,” she said, stifling a yawn. What had Sam asked her opinion on? She must have zoned out on the conversation. “Can we break for a bit? I need coffee or I'm going to be useless.”

“That,” Sam said as he stretched his arms up and leaned back in his chair, “is a great idea. Grab me one while you're out too?” He must have noticed Olette's raised brows, as he covered himself with one of his charming smiles. “Please?”

“Yeah, of course. Sully?”

“If you can't add a shot of whiskey to it, I'm alright.” Olette's stomach rolled at the thought of more alcohol. It was only ten in the morning, but she had no trouble believing that Sully was serious in his request.

Two cups of coffee – black, no sugar – and Olette felt better. Just the smell of the drink had perked her up. She still felt the pull of sleep, but was able to focus on the discussion at the table. Sam had downed his coffee just as quick as she had, but not before dumping three packets of sugar into it. He wasn't showing any signs of lack of sleep, and she had to wonder how he was functioning so well. Maybe it was pure anticipation, the urge to find their next destination driving him beyond mortal limits.

“So, we know Anne Bonny mostly sailed the Caribbean. And the map is of Central and South America.” Sam guested to the map, now sharing the table with empty coffee cups and the left overs from a box of donuts.

Olette nodded, having heard his spiel before. Sam and Sully had gone over everything about their latest treasure hunt with her shortly after hiring her on. The name Anne Bonny has familiar even before the men had talked about her – Olette had taken a class or two during her time as a graduate student about the flashy and deadly life of sixteenth century pirates. What she had not known, however, was the legend of her lost treasure.

Anne Bonny's death was never confirmed. She was sentenced to execution, but records of it were never found, and rumors were that she escaped and continued her life on the high seas. Sam and Sully were certain that was the truth, and had uncovered evidence that she hid a great deal of the spoils of her piracy somewhere where it was still buried, waiting to be discovered. They had retrieved this map – Anne Bonny's own – before Olette had joined, and with the addition of the necklace, were ready to take the next step in finding her treasure.

“We can all see that,” Sully said to Sam, pointing at the map.

“Hey, I'm just trying to lay everything out, no need to be so rude, Victor.” Sam's expression of mock hurt caused Olette to snort into her third cup of coffee.

Sully shot her a look, then waved his arm to Sam. “Carry on, then.”

“Thank you.” Sam pulled a picture out from a notebook on the table next to the map. It showed a woman standing at the bow of a ship, wind blowing her hair out behind her. Around her neck was a depiction of the same necklace that Olette had stolen the night before. “Based on our research and this old portrait of our leading lady, this necklace here is supposed to decode where on this map her treasure is hidden.”

_Find the map. Find the necklace. Find the treasure._ The steps never ended. Olette wondered how much of her life Anne Bonny had dedicated to hiding her money. A goose chase so complicated must have taken years to set up, and for what? For her to vanish without a trace, leaving her valuables for someone to find hundreds of years later. 

“Have you ever found treasure that wasn't hidden behind a thousand clues?” She asked the boys. “Something that was easy?”

“What would be the fun in that?” Sam grinned at her and she knew he wasn't saying that as a joke. To him the clues, the mishaps, the chase – it was all part of the fun. The constant pull of adventure, of something new and dangerous just ahead of him, that was what drove him. Olette had the sudden insight that Sam would go to the ends of the world just to say he had, that he would let nothing stand in his way of whatever it was he wanted. The bodies of the dead guards from the night before flashed in front of her eyes. Maybe that wasn't the positive trait she thought it was.

Olette realized she was studying Sam's face a little too intently, and looked away. _No,_ she thought. _That was in self defense_. Sam hadn't killed anyone in cold blood. Not as a means to get what he wanted. He wasn't like that...

“Maybe there's something inside the huge ass sapphire?” Sam was turning the jewel over in his hands, examining it. It didn't look quite so big there, as it did in her hands.

“I don't think so.” Olette reached across the table and Sam gave the necklace to her. No blemishes marred the surface. “Maybe with the laser cutting we have today someone could hollow this out and cover it back up this well, but not three hundred years ago.” She held the gem up to the stream of sun coming in through the curtains. The many facets caught the light and refracted it, making rainbows shimmer within. “Besides, look at the way it's refracting the light. It's solid.”

The three of them took turns studying the necklace and the map, throwing ideas back and forth. Sully left and returned with lunch, and they shared a meal while discussing the same theories over and over. Olette started counting how many times Sam and Sully tossed snide and sarcastic comments to each other, and kept a secret tally of all the times she caught Sam looking her way when he didn't think she would notice. The two numbers were almost the same.

It was mid afternoon by the time they had a breakthrough, and Olette was more than ready to call it a day. Her head was resting on the table, one hand absently brushing through her hair. Sam had the necklace again, holding his eye comically close to it while it rested on the map.

“It's too opaque to to see anything through it if there was hidden writing.”

“Wait,” Sully grabbed the necklace from Sam's hand, and Olette looked up at the sudden movement. “Get your damn face away from that and put it down on the map.”

Something in Sully's tone caused her to sit up and lean forward for a better look. She watched as he angled the necklace until it laid on the map in a crescent, the diamonds on the chain resting perfectly on top of the islands in the Caribbean. It looked like a trail.

“The diamonds all line up with the islands. And the sapphire...”

“X marks the spot.” Sam cut in, pointing to the sapphire and the country in South America that it covered. The buzz of excitement was back in his voice, and Olette felt the atmosphere in the room change. They were all wide awake again, eager to discover their next clue.

“Venezuela?” Sully moved the sapphire aside and sighed. The gem covered the entire county on the map. “So we narrowed it down to a country. There's got to be more, or else we'll be searching until I retire.”

Undeterred, Sam picked up the map and began to focus his attention on Venezuela. “Yeah, yeah, we get it, old man. I'll keep looking.”

Olette was about to move her seat closer to Sam so she could help when Sully caught her eye and her attention.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

She nodded, and followed his lead out of the room. He closed the door behind them and motioned her towards the bench a few feet away. Olette took a seat, somewhat confused. Was Sully going to tell her he noticed the looks Sam was giving her, too? Maybe a warning, like some sort of substitute father figure.

“Listen, you did really great. Without you we wouldn't be this far,” Sully said as he sat down next to her. He pulled a cigar out of his pocket and lit it. “But, it got rough for a bit. That's how it goes with us, try as we might to avoid the guns and the knives and god knows what else. If you stick around, it might just get worse.

“You've got a life you can go back to still.”

This was it. She had done what they had asked her to, what they had needed her for. Her role in the hunt was over. Olette's heart fell. The thought of going home, leaving before the real adventure even began, was depressing. What could she say, though? Sam and Sully could handle the rest themselves.

Sully must have noticed the slipping of her smile, the look of disappointment on her face. He took another puff of his cigar, then wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I'm not telling you to go; I like you too much for that. I'm just letting you know, if you want this to be it, that's okay. Sam'll miss you like hell. Damn, so will I. But we'll understand.”

“Sully...” She started, then paused. He wasn't saying she needed to go, after all. He was giving her an out, if she needed it. It was so incredibly thoughtful Olette had to blink back a rush of tears. It wasn't until now that she realized just how attached to the men she had become, and how little she wanted to let go of this new lifestyle.

Olette shifted on the bench until she was facing the older man. Her smile was gentle, but determined. “I'd rather be with you two than filling out job applications. Thank you for worrying about me, but I can handle this.”

Sully's arm retreated to his side, but not before giving her shoulder a squeeze. Through a cloud of smoke she could see the satisfied look on his face. “I don't doubt that, sweetheart.”

“Hey,” Sam's voice shouted from the doorway. “Stop sharing your deep secrets and come look at this.”

Back at the table Sam had produced a magnifying glass and was holding it out, along with the necklace. Sully took both and started searching the chain while Sam spoke, his words rushing out in a fit of excitement.

“There's something written here, by the clasp.” He pointed to a spot on the chain, and Sully moved the magnifying glass to look. Olette leaned in, all three of them huddled together over the necklace. Etched into the chain in writing so small even magnified it was hard to see, was a single sentence.

_Where three are one, the earth will cry and there will my treasure lie._

“Roraima,” Olette blurted out almost immediately. Sam and Sully turned their attention from the riddle to her, their eyes questions. “Mount Roraima, that's what it's talking about.”

She bent over the table and pointed to a spot on the map in the southeast corner of Venezuela. It was marked with small ridges that signified a mountain range. “Look, right here! It's a shared border between Brazil, Guyana, and Venezuela. One, two, three.” She pointed to each country in turn, all bordering the same spot on the map.

“Olly, I could kiss you.” Sam was looking at her like she was the best thing in the world. She thought she saw his hand twitch, as if to reach over and touch her. All she could do was grin at him in return, barely holding in her enthusiasm.

“I'll be damned. Are you sure? That was an awfully fast answer.” Sully said, still looking at the map.

“I'm sure. It's got to be there.” What Olette knew about Mount Roraima came from her years at college. It was home to some of the world's oldest rock samples; a place full of geologic significance and astonishing beauty. She knew more than enough about it know when it was being referred to.

She focused back to the map, trying to ignore the way Sam was still looking at her. “But, I mean, that's still a huge area to cover...”

Sully nodded, but his expression said that didn't matter. They had a destination now, a spot in the world where their treasure was waiting. Sam started to laugh, and all the tension leaked out of the room.

“Looks like we're going for a hike in Venezuela,” he said, edging himself between Olette and Sully and putting an arm around both of them. He met Olette's eyes and in them she saw he was already half way out the door, ready to move on to the next part of their adventure.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few countries mentioned in this chapter whose founding dates are very skewed in order to fit the timeline of this fic. Please bear with me as I take creative liberty with history. 
> 
> Writing this chapter was like pulling teeth, but as always thank you for the kudos and comments!


	7. Interlude

The ocean stretched out below Olette. On and on it went, the horizon a line of blue meeting blue in all directions. She watched as the waves continued their course, never deviating or slowing. It was calming in a way that could have put her to sleep.

The buzz and whine of the small aircraft kept her awake, though. Even through the noise canceling headphones that dwarfed her ears she could make out the changes in pitch that signaled an acceleration or altitude change. She felt it, too, in the pit of her stomach and the bones in her ears. For the first two hours of their flight Olette had to fight back nausea and keep her eyes squeezed shut. Sully proved to be a more than competent pilot, though, and by the time they reached the open ocean she could sit comfortably and enjoy the view.

Sam was sitting besides her, dozing. His mouth was slightly open, head tilted to the side. He had been like that for hours, as far as Olette could tell. The lack of sleep in the weeks leading up to this moment must have finally caught up with him. He looked peaceful. She took the opportunity to study his features, noting the bags beneath his eyes and the lines on his forehead that right now were softened in slumber.

“See something you like there?” Sully's voice crackled into life through the headset. Olette looked up to see him half turned in his seat, smiling back at her.

She panicked for a second, thinking he needed to be watching where the plane was headed. But everything was only ocean. He could look way for minutes on end and nothing would change.

“I was just seeing if he was still sleeping,” she said, shifting in her seat so she was facing forward and way from Sam. Even to herself it sounded like a lie.

“Ah, come on, Olly. I ain't blind.” Sully shook his head, and _of course he wasn't._ Olette wondered when he had picked up on her and Sam's budding feelings. Back before the night at the estate, during one of their many planning sessions that lasted into the early hours of the morning? Finding the two of them together in the hotel room a few mornings ago must only have solidified Sully's assumption.

“Sam's a good kid. Had a rough life though, nothing can help that.” Sully sounded like he was talking more to himself than her. He had turned back to the controls and was watching the sky stretch out before them. “With Nate settling down I think he's trying too goddamn hard to do enough for the both of them. He'll push himself to death if he's not careful.”

Olette believed it. The proof was in the way he was passed out next to her, the way his eyes often looked fevered when he spoke of Anne Bonny's treasure. She imagined him making one too many reckless moves, forgoing one too many nights of sleep. It would be easy for him to get hurt. Olette did not like the idea of that.

Long after she had thought Sully had said all he was going to, he spoke again. “Could use someone like you, keep his feet on the ground.”

Sully's declaration surprised her. Olette had never thought of herself as a grounding force. Faced with someone like Sam, though, she supposed it was true. He had looked out for her, even potentially saved her life during their fight after stealing the necklace. Maybe she could look out for him, too, if in a slightly different way. A way that kept him from racing off, heedless to the danger ahead.

“I don't think he'd want to keep his feet on the ground...,” she countered. Again, the image of the dead guards flashed before her eyes. Stopping a force like that wouldn't be easy.

“Doesn't matter what he wants,” Sully said. He turned back to her again, this time meeting and holding her eyes. His gaze was gentle and concerned. He loved Sam, probably like a son, Olette realized. He wanted to see him stay safe and sane as much as she did, likely more. “Matters what's good for him. Stuck in that prison the only thing he learned was how to obsess over something. That's no way to live your life.”

Olette was about to disagree – that it _did_ matter what Sam wanted, that there had to be some in between, when Sam started to rouse in the seat next to her. She pressed her lips together, biting back her words.

Sully noticed Sam waking up, too, and gave him a nod in greeting. “'Mornin', sunshine.”

Sam grumbled something incoherent and stretched out as best he could in the cramped fold out seat. It took him a moment to orient himself, as if he had just woken from a dream that left him out of place. He rubbed his eyes and looked towards the cockpit where Sully had turned back to the controls.

“We there yet?” Sam asked, voice thick with sleep yet still managing to sound like an impatient child.

“Look for yourself,” Sully answered.

Olette followed Sully's instructions and turned her gaze towards the big forward window. The ocean still spread out before them towards the horizon, but instead of sea meeting sky there was land off in the distance. It looked small now, but even as she continued to watch the mass grew larger and larger. It started to take shape, mountains and dips that must be valleys forming the geography of what could only be South America.

“Welcome to Venezuela,” Sam said, now wide awake. “Next stop, Anne Bonny's treasure.”

 


	8. Chase

“Listen, all I'm saying is that Genesis was never the same after Gabriel left.”

Sam was leaning back in his chair, shaking his head. A half full glass of dark amber alcohol was held loosely in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other.

Olette, Sam, and Sully had landed in Caracas, the capitol of Venezuela, a few hours ago. After finding a hotel her and Sam had left Sully to catch up on some sleep and ventured out in the city. They walked by small markets and shops, enjoying the small bit of down time. When they got hungry they found a restaurant with a patio overlooking the mountains rising up around them. They sat there now, having an afternoon round of drinks and some local fare.

“That's not a bad thing, oh my god.” Olette laughed and finished off her drink. A waiter was ready with another, and she thanked him in halting Spanish.

“It's not a _good_ thing either.” Sam took a drag from his cigarette, held the smoke in his mouth for a moment and let it out in such an appealing way that Olette half considered asking for one herself. She was reminded of decades ago in high school when she had stopped thinking smoking made you look cool. Sam had a way of breaking that way of thinking.

“You wouldn't understand. You're too young,” he said.

“And you're what? Ancient?” Though Sam had never divulged exactly what his age was, Olette figured he was in his early forties. Not much older than her. Definitely not old enough to tell her she was young. “I am not going to agree with you on this, Sam. I'm sorry.”

“Guess I'll have to strap you down and make you listen to a pre Collins album until you let me win, then.”

Instead of laughing at Sam's joke, Olette paused, drink half raised to her mouth. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up, a prickling at the base of her spine alerting her to something amiss. She could have chalked it up to the lingering sense of danger she'd been feeling since the night at the estate, but her sudden unease felt stronger than merely a memory.

Her eyes flicked around the patio, spotting other patrons idly passing their afternoon and the one harassed looking waiter hurrying to refill drinks. Nothing stood out as different than when her and Sam had arrived.

Then she spotted him. Half hidden by a potted tree, cloaked in the shadow of the patio awning. The man was raising a gun even as Olette saw him, aimed for her and Sam's table.

Instinct won out over thought and she grabbed Sam's shoulder at the same time she dropped off of her chair onto the ground. She pulled him with her, too intent on not getting shot to be shocked at the sudden strength that her adrenaline gave her.

“Sam, get down!”

They slammed onto the stone of the patio floor, a tangle of arms and legs. Sam had time to give her one confused look before the spray of bullets flying over this heads connected the dots for him. He tucked his head down and pulled Olette into his chest, shielding her in a move that was so natural she could tell he had done it before.

People were screaming around them. The other patrons of the restaurant took cover behind their tables or dashed about madly, trying to get away from the unknown shooter. Olette's ears were ringing, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Come on _,_ can I have _one_ nice dinner without someone shooting at me?” Sam cursed, his breath hot on Olette's neck. The bullets had stopped flying, the gunman taking the time to reload. Sam leaped to his feet, dragging Olette with him. He pointed towards a staircase leading off of the patio and towards the street.

“Run!” he yelled, pushing her ahead of him.

She didn't need to be told twice. Olette's feet slapped on the ground as she sprinted towards the exit, and she thanked God she had chosen to ditch her heels for more sensible flats. They reached the stairs before the gun man finished reloading and bounded down them together, taking three steps at a time.

Once they hit the street the sound of gun fire started up again. There was no time to debate over which way to go; Sam ran in one direction and Olette followed. He tried to keep pace with her, to make sure he was always a step behind her, ready to be the one who got hit first if it came to that. Every time they came to an intersection she slowed the slightest bit, waiting for Sam to pick the way.

She had no experience navigating crowed foreign streets. The sidewalks were full of people who did little to move out of her way as she rushed past, the signs showing symbols she'd never seen before and in her haste she could not read what was written on them. Olette could only hope that Sam had an idea of where they were going.

Sweat was starting to drip down her back when a bullet grazed her leg. There was a burst of pain, a burning sensation like when she had been a child and touched the hot stove. She must have let out a screech of surprise, because Sam clutched her arm as he caught up to her, steadying her. They both looked back towards the direction of the shot, and instead of only one man there were now three.

They ducked behind a parked car just in time. All three of the men sprayed the sidewalk in bullets, heedless to the other pedestrians. A panic erupted just like in the restaurant, and Sam and Olette took the opportunity the chaos presented and once again took off running.

It was harder to run now. The pain in Olette's leg caused her to limp and favor one leg over the other. Sam was right beside her, though, urging her on and not letting her fall behind.

“Who are those guys?” she yelled as they turned a corner into a crowded square, hoping to loose their assailants in the crowd.

“I'd say people who don't like us very much.”

_Was he smirking?_ Olette felt the corners of her lips turn into a crazed imitation of a smile, unable to fully commit to either a grin or a scowl.  _Trust Sam to make light of the situation._

They continued on, Olette afraid to look behind them and see the gunmen fast approaching. She could not spare a thought to despair over the situation she had got herself into, her main focus only getting out of it. Sam pushed past people going about their business, clearing a path for her to follow. After a few minutes they emerged from the crowded square, and Olette let herself begin to think they had lost their tail.

The sound of an engine revving nearby told her how wrong she was. Both her and Sam snapped towards the noise, only to see two of the men following them hop into a car that had the third behind the wheel. Olette did not know how they had caught up to them so quickly, or how they had a car waiting in just this spot. It didn't make sense. None of this made sense. Who were these people, and how had they found the two of them?

“Sam, this way.” Olette grabbed Sam's hand and tugged him towards a narrow alley way. Half way down it she had seen a flash of metal hit by the sun, a chrome exterior on something that would hopefully even out their chances of making a getaway. 

Sam reached the motorcycle before she did. He had been behind her, but let go of her hand and rushed towards the bike when he saw it. Olette remembered the stories he told her about the stunts he'd pulled on bikes, and his boasts of being an incredible driver. She hoped he wasn't exaggerating. 

“Ah, here we go,” he said, face alight with admiration. He was running a hand over the body of it, palm slick with sweat and leaving a damp trail on the chrome. “Look at this baby. Someone here's got good taste-”

“Sam!” Olette urged, looking behind her where the car with the gunmen was swerving out of sight, looking for a way to cut them off.

“Right,” he said, putting a leg over the seat and fiddling with some wires by the ignition. There was a small spark and then the gentle purr of the engine. “Hop on, honey.” Sam patted the seat behind him, a wide grin on this face.

As Olette climbed on the bike, Sam rustled around the band of his jeans and pulled out a pistol. He checked the chambers and clicked the safety off before holding it out to Olette.

“You're gonna need this.”

“I don't think-” she started, frowning.

“No thinking, just shooting.” Sam pushed the gun into her hands until she finally took hold of it. “Safety's off, just point and shoot and maybe say a Hail Mary or two after.”

Olette bit her lip and considered. She did not want to shoot anyone. Never in her life had she imagined aiming a gun at someone with the intent to injure or, god forbid, kill. But now...now she had little choice. Whoever the men that were after them were, they were not going to simply give up and drive away. They had shot first, and did not slow signs of stopping. Maybe this was the only way. To protect herself, and to protect Sam. He couldn't drive and keep the men off of them at the same time. It was her turn now to be the one to save them.

“Okay, yeah. Okay,” she said to herself more than to Sam.

The bike vibrated beneath her and started to crawl forward as Sam got a feel of the controls.

“Hold on tight,” he said, and Olette complied. She wrapped one arm around his middle, her body pressed up against his back. A low moan escaped his lips at the pressure, and Olette couldn't help but smile despite the danger they were in. His abs flexed as he pushed the bike forward and gained speed. She could feel the muscles tense under her arm, the heat of his body and the dampness of his sweat. Something inside her stomach began to flutter and _my god, was it the danger or Sam that was turning her on?_

They exited the alleyway through the opposite side, bursting back onto a more central road. Luck was on their side and it was not highly trafficked at this hour, and Sam was able to weave in and out of the few cars that were in the lanes.

Olette chanced a glance behind her and her heart dropped. The car with the gunmen was there. They must have anticipated where they would come out of the alley; this was likely their city, after all. They knew the streets much better than Sam and Olette.

“They're still following us,” she yelled, struggling to be heard over the roar of the bike.

“Not for long.” Sam took a hard turn and Olette was forced to grip him tighter to stay upright. He drove them past a few intersections, the shouts and curses of the cars he cut off ringing out as they raced by. Twice they nearly crashed into other cars, and once narrowly manged to escape running down a frightened pedestrian.

“Where did you learn to drive?” Olette asked, resisting the urge to squeeze her eyes shut as they swerved yet again to avoid oncoming traffic.

She felt Sam shrug, and the rumble in his chest that meant he was laughing. “Oh you know, here and there.”

Soon they were in what looked like an industrial sector of the city. The few cars had thinned until it was only them and the fast approaching vehicle that carried their assailants. Even Sam's reckless driving had not been enough to lose them.

Olette was about to urge Sam to go faster, if that was even possible, when the now all too familiar sound of a gun shot stopped her. She twisted around in the seat and looked behind her to find two of the men hanging out the windows of the car, aiming to take another shot.

Her hand moved on its own, as if it knew better than Olette did. She held the gun Sam had given her tight, her fingers turning white as they wrapped around the grip. _Just pull the trigger._

It was surprisingly easy.

She was jerked back with the recoil she had not anticipated, shoving her shoulder into Sam's back. A vibration ran up the bones in her arm, feeling more like an electric shock than a transfer of energy. The sound of the shot so close to her left her ears ringing, and she barely heard Sam as he turned his head and gave her a wild grin.

“'Atta girl!”

Behind them the car had slowed, taken off guard by the returned fire. Olette had aimed for the man in the passengers seat, hoping to stop him from taking another shot. She had missed, which was not surprising. Even standing still and aiming for a stationary target, it would have been difficult for her to hit it, with what little training she had. The bullet had, however, hit the windshield.

It had shattered on impact, glass shards flying out over the hood of the car and onto the pavement below. The driver swerved, doing his best to see through the shower of glass. Through the buzz in her ears and the roar of the engine Olette thought she heard screaming.

She ticked away the crimes she could be tried for now. _Breaking and entering, reckless endangerment, larceny, grand theft auto, assault, possibly murder._ She couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up in her as she imagined what her students would think if they saw her now.

The laugh died in her throat when she saw the car start to accelerate and head towards them again. She raised the gun a second time, making sure to aim more carefully. She had to make the shots she took count; Sam wasn't able to help this time. He was doing his best to outrun the other car, but that clearly was not going to happen. It was up to her now, and she had no choice but to take care of the gunmen herself.

Olette was ready for the recoil now, and after firing off two shots in quick succession she let her shoulders slump onto Sam's back with a more gentle thud. She held her breath as she watched the car slow at the impact of her bullets: one into the front tire, and another somewhere into it's interior. The tires were her mark, the passengers an unlucky miss.

It was enough for the driver, possibly hit, to let go of the steering wheel just as the front tire blew out. Olette could not see exactly what was going on inside of the car, as Sam took the opportunity to increase the distance between them, but she imagined the other two men trying to reach the wheel before control was lost.

They must have failed, for the pursuing car spun wildly. She could smell burning rubber along with acrid gunpowder, and she had to take a few deep breaths through her mouth to fend off a wave of nausea.

Sam turned back just in time to see the car crash into the side of a building, smoke beginning to rise in swirling tendrils from the damaged hood.

“Nice shot, You're a regular at this.”

Olette was looking past him, ignoring the praise. He had turned on a street between two buildings that looked long abandoned, but with his focus on her and the destruction behind them, did not see he was heading straight for a parked car.

“Sam, watch were you're going!” She yelled, squeezing him around the middle to try to get his attention.

“Oh shit.”

 

* * *

 

“Olly! Shit, shit, shit.”

The world was black. It must have been night. Olette groaned, wished that Sam would stop yelling and let her sleep. What was he so upset about?

Slowly the blackness retreated and in its place the orange of the sun hit her eyes and she opened them, squinting. It hurt to look up at the bright sky, and she was relieved when a shadow loomed over her and blocked it out.

“Come on, girl.”

Sam was shaking her, and none too gentle. It hurt. In fact, everything hurt.

“What...” she started, her mouth thick and dry. She remembered then the flight from the restaurant, the gun fight, the crash. Olette jolted up, her head spinning at the sudden movement. Her hand reached out to Sam, holding on to him for support as much as reassurance that he was there, he was alive. And so was she. “Oh my god. Are you okay?”

“Me?” Sam helped pull Olette all the way up to her feet, then slipped an arm around her waist to keep her there. “I'm in one piece. You look pretty good too, for the fall you took. You blacked out for a minute. Scared the hell outa me.”

Olette looked around, still somewhat dazed. Her leg was bleeding, just a thin trickle amid a stain of dried blood, her head pounding. She gingerly touched it and winced when her fingers grazed over a bump the size of a marble. Sam was covered in sweat, his shirt clinging to him, hair damp and plastered to his face. A few cuts on his arms were bleeding, too, but other than that he did not look any worse off than her.

The motorcycle was a twisted piece of metal ten yards away. They must have slammed into the parked car and been thrown off. Olette turned away from the wreck and back to Sam, trying out a smile. It only hurt her head a little.

“Maybe if you drove less like a maniac...”

“I can't believe you just said that.” He looked down at her, and for a moment all of the pains in her body were forgotten. “Next time you're driving.”

They started to walk away from the crash, arms around each other and limping. Sam dug around in his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a phone. He gave it to Olette.

“Here, call Victor and tell him to get the plane ready. I think we've overstayed our welcome.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading as always, sorry it's taking longer to get these chapters out!


	9. Truth

Sully was waiting at the small airstrip, his back against the plane. He looked over and shook his head when Olette and Sam exited the taxi that brought them there. As they approached Olette saw the dark expression that molded his features, pulling down the sides of his mouth and drawing his brows together. His foot was tapping the pavement to a slow, steady beat. A wash of what felt like ice water ran down her spine.

He was upset. Disappointed, maybe. She recalled the look her father had given her when she got caught sneaking out as a teenager. This was hardly the same, but something in the way the older man's eyes followed her progress across the parking lot made her feel like that young girl again.

“What kind of trouble did you get into this time?” Sully asked when they reached him, his eyes on Sam.

Before finding a taxi, Olette had called Sully to let him know they needed to get out of the city. He had answered after the fifth ring, voice thick and low. After apologizing for waking him up she quickly explained what had happened at the restaurant, including the car chase and its unfortunate end. She left out much of the finer details, like her use of the gun. She wasn't sure her voice would have kept from breaking if she had tried to speak of that just yet.

Now Sully was waiting for the full story, clearly assuming this was more Sam's fault than hers.

“Me? Get into trouble?” Sam flashed a grin to Sully as he helped Olette over to the plane. She took a seat on the ground next to it, not caring that the concrete was hot to the touch or that she had to look up at the men when they spoke. Her leg hurt, she was tired, and the bump on her head was pulsing in time with her heart. She needed to sit down.

Sully stopped leaning against the plane when Sam straightened back up. His foot had stopped tapping, but the annoyance was still there in his eyes, burning as bright as the flicker that erupted from Sam's lighter as held a cigarette to it.

“Yeah, you. I can't take a goddamn _nap_ without you making some sort of mess.”

“Hey now, that's rude.” Sam waved away the criticism with his hand, smoke trailing after it from the burning embers of the cigarette. This was his fourth since Olette had woken up by the mangled motorcycle. He had chain smoked throughout their taxi ride, and only paused when he had to wrap an arm around Olette to help her walk. Whenever he had one in his mouth his hand's didn't shake.

He took another puff and frowned. “It's not my fault we managed to get someone's attention.”

“Are you sure, because -”

“Guys.” Olette tilted her head up to get a better look at the men. The sun overhead hurt her eyes, and she brought up a hand to shield them. “Can we maybe not do this? I'd like to clean my leg up and take some aspirin. Your yelling is not helping my head.”

She sounded more defeated than she thought she would. She meant to be stern, but only sounded tired. It was enough, though, for the men to stop their bickering and remember she was there.

“Ah, shit. I'm sorry, Olly.” Sam reached down and put a hand on Olette's shoulder. He gave Sully a reproachful look. “Victor, can't you be a little more considerate?”

“Just get her some damn pain killers,” Sully said, pointing towards the interior of the plane. Sam gave her shoulder a squeeze and climbed into the cockpit, where she could hear him shuffle around.

With Sam gone, Sully slid next to Olette and resumed leaning on the hull of the plane. When he looked at her it was a softer expression than what he gave Sam. Maybe she had not done enough yet to earn Sully's ire, as it always seemed focused on Sam. Maybe Sully just had a soft spot for younger women.

“Olette, I'm sorry. How you holding up?”

“Just a little in shock, I think.” She gave him a weak smile, then looked back down to her hands. They were clutched tight in her lap, and she knew if she let go they would shake. So far Olette had done well to keep herself together. She even laughed in the taxi at one of Sam's bad jokes.

She knew she should be feeling something more. Other than the pain in her leg and head, though, she didn't. Seeing Sam shoot those guards a week ago had made her feel more than shooting someone herself had. That couldn't be right. It had to be shock. She would feel it later, probably when she was alone and had to close her eyes and try to sleep.

“I think I might have killed someone,” she said, not looking up from her lap. Saying it out loud felt strange. Like the words had no meaning, like she was moving her mouth from a million miles away. The disassociation was odd, but Olette couldn't find the energy to care.

She heard Sully sigh somewhere above her. He shifted his weight, lowering himself down onto the pavement next to her. His groans came in time with the staccato crack of his joints. When he was settled he took Olette's hand in his. Again she recalled the face of her father, kind and gentle.

“It's a hard thing to deal with. I'm sorry you had to do that, kid.” His hand dwarfed hers, was much softer than Sam's. He held it tighter for a moment, then let it fall back into her lap. “I know what it's like, and if you ever need to talk about it I'm here. I'd hate to see you struggle through this alone.”

Olette finally looked over at him. He did know what it was like, that much was clear. He knew better than Sam, even, she suspected. Had Sully gotten used to it, too, like Sam had said? Olette was now among thieves and killers, men who her father would have warned her about. Yet still she saw him in Sully, and trusted her life in Sam's hands. Thieves and killers they might be, but they were also good men. If she was to become like them, she too could remain a good person.

“Thank you, Sully.” This time her smile was stronger. “You did warn me things might get rough.”

Sully nodded. “That I did.”

If he was going to say anything else it was cut short by Sam emerging from the plane, one hand a closed palm and the other holding some bandages and a wet cloth. He walked over to the two of them and sat down in front of Olette.

“Move over, Victor, let me patch our girl up.”

Sully only grumbled and shook his head as he struggled to get back to this feet. Once up he told them he needed to get the plane ready and went inside, leaving Olette and Sam alone.

Sam scooted close to her and opened his palm. She took the two round pills and popped them into her mouth, easily swallowing them dry. With luck the pain killers would act fast and the aching in her head would abate. She thanked him and reached for the wet cloth.

“Ah ah,” Sam said, shaking his head. “Let me. Sully got to clean you up last time, it's my turn now.”

Olette laughed and waved him on, more than happy to let someone else take care of it. She stretched her leg out, letting her calf and ankle rest on Sam's lap. He leaned over it and started wiping away the dried blood with the wet cloth. It was surprisingly gentle, and the damp fabric was warm and soothing.

“You're lucky that bullet didn't go straight through your leg,” Sam was saying while he inspected the wound on her calf. It had merely grazed her, but the abrasion was still raw and painful. There was a line of skin nearly three inches long that had ripped away, exposing the red flesh beneath it. _Another scar_ , Olette thought. It must come with the territory, judging by the pale silver lines that Sam had crossing his arms, and the pink rippled circles on his stomach.

The pain in her leg intensified and Olette winced, involuntarily jerking it out of Sam's lap. He must have been cleaning the wound itself.

“That hurt?” He asked.

Olette shrugged and put her leg back where it was, letting him continue.

“Not too much,” she lied. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from voicing the pain.

He finished cleaning the area and then wrapped it in the bandages, making sure it was not too tight as to constrict the blood flow through her leg. His movements looked practiced – dabbing off the blood, checking for any loose debris that needed to be cleaned out, coating the area with a disinfectant from somewhere in his pockets, gingerly wrapping her leg and stretching it out to make sure it was not impaired by the bandage. He had done this many times before.

Olette watched him all the while, smiling back when he looked up from his work to check on her. This was another side of Sam, one that was quiet and tender. She thought back to the story he had told her about his little brother, and it was easy to picture Sam taking care of him. Whatever else Sam was, he was compassionate as well.

“You are one tough lady, you know that?” Olette was pulled from her thoughts by Sam, who was now idly rubbing the muscles of her calf. He was no longer looking at her leg, but at her eyes, her lips, her neck. She felt his gaze track her features as a fluttering in her chest, a rising heat in her cheeks.

 _She was thirty-five years old._ Not fifteen. How could a simple look, no matter how intense, still make her feel like this?

“I've got to be to keep up with you,” she said, swallowing down the fluttering that threatened to rise from her chest to her lips.

Sam grinned and agreed before lifting her leg off of him and standing up. He offered a hand to her and they both made their way into the plane where Sully was waiting.

 

* * *

 

“Where are we going now?” Olette asked, watching the city grow smaller below her.

She was back in the hard fold out seats of the plane, Sam next to her and Sully in the cockpit guiding them towards the mountains far in the distance. The pain killers she had taken were starting to kick in, and she was able to relax for the first time since spotting the man with the gun at the restaurant.

“Best to play it safe and get out of Caracas,” Sully was saying, his voice reaching her ears through the headset she wore. “We can lay low for the night in a town right on the edge of the Canaima National Park. Then I can take you deeper in tomorrow, send you on your way.”

Olette nodded in agreement. Mount Roraima was located in the national park that covered much of southeastern Venezuela. The closer Sully could get them to it, the better.

Everyone was quiet for a while. Olette busied herself looking out the large windows at the front of the plane, scarcely believing that she was even now on her way to find a hidden treasure buried deep in the rainforest. When she first took the job with Sam and Sully it had seemed far off, a dream that probably would not come true. Yet here she was, watching the city turn to the ancient and lush wilderness of South America.

The only thing that soured the experience was the danger they appeared to be in. Olette thought that after stealing the necklace it would be a simple task of hiking to their destination and maybe solving another few clues, if Sam's stories were anything to go by. Instead they had been shot at, chased after, and driven out of the city.

And no one was talking about it. At least not since she had scolded the men to stop them from arguing earlier.

“You think those guys will follow us?” She asked into the mouthpiece of her headset. “Try to find out where we're going?”

“It'd be a first if they didn't,” Sully answered. “Can't find _one damn treasure_ without someone else buttin' in.”

Olette heard Sam sigh in her ears, and looked over to see him shaking his head. “Yeah, we get it. Treasure hunting's a hard business, old man. People are always trying to kill us for something.”

Sully only grunted in response, and kept his eyes on the sky ahead of them.

Neither of them seemed too worried over who it was that was after them. It might have been so routine to them now, getting fired at, that they could care less who was doing the firing. Olette, however, _did_ care.

“Could it be the owners of the necklace? Maybe they hired someone to get it back.” It was plausible, at least to Olette. If someone had stolen something that precious from her she would want to do all she could to get it back.

“Maybe,” Sam said. “But those guys looked like they knew the city pretty well. Anyone those rich pricks hired wouldn't be natives.”

Olette considered what he said. It made a bit of sense, she guessed. But it shouldn't have ruled it out, the way Sam's voice said it did. She glanced over at him, saw that he was sitting comfortably with an arm behind his head. He looked like he didn't have a care in the world.

She was struck with that thought that he knew something he wasn't saying. No one could be so nonchalant while there were still missing pieces.

“Did you guys, maybe, let it out that you had the map?” Olette asked, doing her best not to sound too critical. “Or maybe someone else is after it and knows you have it?”

Sam chuckled. “Are you accusing us of having loose lips, Olly?”

“No, I just thought maybe-”

“Tell her the whole truth, kid,” Sully interrupted. “She's got a right to know now.”

_The whole truth?_ A sense of dread passed over Olette, and she turned her eyes to Sam, confused. He  _did_ know more than he had said. 

“Alright, alright.” Sam shifted in his seat, removed his arm from behind him and faced Olette as best he could. “So the map. Remember we told you we, ah, acquired it from an old friend?”

Oletted nodded. When she had met Sam and Sully for the first time they had been purposely vague about what they needed her for. Just some under cover work, a chance to do a bit of research and maybe some traveling. They must have liked her, because the next day they called to ask when she could fly across the county with them and start planning.

They had explained, then, the details of their work. They showed her the map, the books and journals that hinted at Anne Bonny's treasure. When Olette had asked where they found them the men said they had connections, and she thought no more of it.

She should have been more skeptical.

Sam continued on, his voice interrupting Olette's thoughts. “Well, he wasn't so much of a friend as a...arch rival seems kind of dramatic doesn't it?”

“Samuel, get to the point,” Sully grumbled.

“I'm working on it, no need to interrupt,” Sam said, giving Sully as chastising look. “Well, this guy, Dover, he wasn't too happy to find it missing. He's been trying to tail us since we, uh, borrowed it.”

“Since you stole it,” Olette said, correcting him. If now was the time for the whole truth they needed to call it was it was. Sam merely shrugged. To him there was little difference.

“He must know we have the necklace too and had us followed.” It would not have been hard to figure out they had the necklace, if this Dover knew about the map. He could have pieced things together and once the news of the necklace being stolen got out, known exactly who it was that stole it. That he had found the three of them after that, though, was impressive.

“And lucky us it looks like Dover's got connections here in South America. Maybe a merc group, maybe a gang he's shelling cash out to.” Sam finished his story and reached into his pocket to grab a cigarette. Remembering where they were, he stopped and instead ran his hand through his hair.

Olette sat back in her chair, looking down at her feet. She knew everything Sam and Sully did now. The nameless men after them had a leader, or at least a contractor. She was not sure if that made her feel better or not.

She frowned, shook her head and looked back to Sam. The feeling of betrayal was there, pulling her heart down into her stomach. She should have known. They should have told her everything from the start.

“Why didn't you tell me this before?” She asked, her voice soft in the headset. “I helped you steal the necklace; it wouldn't have made much difference to know you stole the map, too.”

“We didn't want to scare you away. Stealing's one thing, being chased by an angry hunter is another.”

“We're sorry, sweetheart,” Sully said. He at least had the grace to sound ashamed. “We should have told you.”

“It's okay,” Olette said after a minute. What was done was done. Whether it was as Sam said and they were only trying to protect her, or they really did not trust her until now, it was done. There was no use getting upset about it now; they had too much to worry about as it was. She would not forget how easy it seemed for them to keep the truth from her, though. From here on out she would insist that tell her everything.

She absently touched the bump on her head and sighed. “At least we know who's after us, then.”

“Yeah, and we'll get the treasure and get outta here before they can catch up with us again.” Sam reached over and grabbed her hand. When he looked at her his eyes were promises and the apology he had not voiced. “We're almost done, Olly. Then I'm gonna take you out for the best meal you've ever had.”

“You better,” Olette teased. She went back to looking out the window, and the rest of the ride passed quietly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bare with me through these dialogue heavy chapters. More action soon! Thanks as always for kudos and comments, it really helps!


	10. Sam and Olette

“Okay, you kids got everything?”

Olette, Sam, and Sully were standing in a clearing in the forest, the plane sitting idle behind them. It was barely morning – the sun was not high enough yet to cast away the deep shadows beyond the tree line. Around them the forest was waking up to the sound of birdsong and the steady drip of dew falling from leaves.

“We're adults, Victor, we're not going out for a sleepover or something,” Sam answered, the thickness of his voice agitated and half asleep.

Sully ignored Sam and turned to Olette. He was the only one that looked more awake than asleep, the bags under his eyes less pronounced than hers. Maybe it was the two thermos fulls of coffee he had downed during their short flight, or maybe the promise of more sleep once he was done here. He would soon have the leisure of sleeping in while her and Sam hunted for the treasure. She almost envied him, but the lure of spending a few days deep in the Venezuelan jungle was too strong to suggest she stay behind.

“Olette, do you have everything?”

She reached for the backpack on the ground and hefted it up onto her shoulders. They had supplies enough to last four days, along with the usual backpacking necessitates. The necklace and map were tucked away in an inside pocket of Sam's pack, sealed inside a waterproof bag.

“Yes. I double checked the packs before we left.” She tugged at the straps at her waist, tightening them. The pack sat comfortably above her hips, taking much of the weight off her shoulders. This was far from the first time she had spent time wearing one, and the pressure of it weighing her down was a nice familiarity in this new place.

“Good girl.” Sully smiled at her and handed her a radio. “Call me when you've got the treasure and need a lift out of here.”

“Yes, dad,” Sam grumbled, picking up his own pack. He slung it on easily, and busied himself adjusting it to fit his torso.

Sully started back towards the plane, Olette following him for a last goodbye. He looked back over to Sam and watched him for a minute before speaking again.

“Take care of him, will you?”

“Of course.” Olette said. She hoped there was nothing to keep him safe from, that Dover's men would not find them there. If they did she was not certain how safe she could keep herself, let alone Sam. He had a better chance by himself.

Pushing the thought aside she leaned in to give Sully a hug. “See you soon, Sully.”

A few minutes later he left, the sound of the plane drowning out the birds and waking insects. Olette watched as it grew smaller and smaller in the sky until it was lost in the rising sun. She would see Sully again soon, she told herself. As soon as they found the treasure he would be on his way back, and they would celebrate with cigars and booze.

When there was nothing else to do but start their hike, Olette turned her face from the sky and scanned the trees bordering the clearing. Sam yawned and stretched his arms towards the canopy, his midriff showing before he lowered his arms back to his side. Olette caught sight of it from the corner of her eyes and turned slightly to get a better look.

Sam caught her looking and smirked. The last hints of sleep were gone from his expression as he strolled over to her, coming dangerously close.

“Now that we're alone,” he purred, his arm brushing up against hers. Olette took a sharp breath in at the touch, yet stood her ground. Was Sam playing around again? Ever since the night at the hotel when they stayed up until dawn their game of flirting had lost some of its playfulness. It felt more serious now, harder to brush off as just a way to pass the time.

Olette tried to think of a way to respond when Sam laughed and took a step back. “How far do you think we'll have to go to find the treasure?”

“Well,” she said, mentally looking at the map of the forest. “The park is about eleven and a half thousand square miles.”

“ _Fuck me_ ,” Sam exhaled, shaking his head. It was an enormous area to to cover, spanning miles of endless forest and tepuis. It would take a lifetime to search if they had not had a clue where to start.

“But we know the treasure is close to Mount Roraima, so that narrows it down to... a lot less,” Olette said, doing her best to reassure Sam.

“But still a lot.”

Sam was right; it was still a lot. They could easily get lost among the trees and rivers, or stumble down one of the many slopes and be too injured to continue. Instead of voicing her own fears, Olette gave Sam a look of mock shock.

“What's the matter, not up for a long hike?”

“I'm up for finding the treasure before someone else does,” he said.

Olette nodded in agreement. Even out here, where the closest town was over a hundred miles away, they could be in danger. Who knew if Dover and his men had followed them here, or were even now tracking their movements. She tried to put the thought out of her mind.

“Well, the necklace said ' _the earth will cry,'”_ she said. “That's probably a waterfall, or maybe a river. So we have an idea of where to look.”

“Yeah?” Sam asked, looking around as if a waterfall would instantly materialize.

“Yeah, there are a lot of waterfalls around the base of the mountain. I say we find the biggest one and start there.”

A map of the forest had shown the curving course of many rivers, and there was bound to be run off from the top of the mountains. All they had to do was head towards those, and eventually they would find the water source Anne Bonny had hid her treasure near. It sounded much easier than it was likely to be, but at least it was a place to start.

Sam gestured towards the treeline, where the rising sun was finally chasing away the shadows. “Sounds good to me. Lead the way.”

 

* * *

 

Walking through the jungle was like taking a trip back in time. The trees towered above Olette and Sam, spreading their branches and leaves to create a canopy of emerald green. The ground beneath their feet was spongy and soft, and patches of mud sucked at their boots. They could hear the call of birds and the frequent and far off call of the animals that made their home in the vast jungle. It was a world untouched by society, a hidden place where nature still held on to its ancient roots.

Olette was in constant awe of the beauty that surrounded her. Her eyes moved from one wonder to the next, drinking it all in. She had been to many parks and forests and mountains before. She had spent weeks backpacking during the summers when she had no classes to teach. None of her trips compared to this. It was the most beautiful place she had ever been. She barely even registered the effort it took to trudge through the thick bushes and mud, too intent instead on the sights.

By mid morning, though, she and Sam were ready for a short rest. They stopped by a bubbling creek, shrugging their packs off and setting them on the uneven ground. While Sam dug a cigarette out of one of the outer pockets of his bag Olette undid the laces on her boots and slid her feet into the water. It was bone cold and refreshing, relieving some of the pain in her feet after their morning of walking.

She wiggled her toes as she munched on a protein bar, enjoying the way the cool water made her shiver. She thought of letting her hair down and dunking it into the creek so it could continue to cool her off once they started walking again, but thought better after imagining the tangles she would never get out. Instead she finished her bar in one bite and stuck her hands into the water, brining up a cupped palm of it to splash onto her face.

When she felt rested and more awake, Olette stood and stretched. Sam was still leaning with his back against a tree and smoking, his eyes lightly shut. She took the opportunity to look around the small area they were in; the creek wound its way off to the north, the trees around them large and vibrant. The bed of the creek was lined with stones rounded by years of water rushing over them. She leaned over and picked one up, inspecting it's smooth surface.

“Look at all this sandstone! In the middle of a mountain range,” she exclaimed. The forest they were in was landlocked, far from the ocean or any large bodies of water. The rock in her hand must have been very old. She skipped over to Sam, shoving the rock in his face. “Look, Sam.”

Sam opened his eyes and looked at her outstretched hand, his expression indifferent. “Yeah, that's a rock. Good find.”

“It's not just a rock,” she said. “These are some of the oldest rocks in the _world_. Can you even imagine what's happened around them? For billions of years?”

Olette's eyes were bright as she clutched the rock tighter in her hand. This was the exact reason she had always wanted to visit Mount Roraima. It was home to some of the oldest geologic formations and rocks in the world. What she held in her hand had been around longer than any human, maybe even any living thing. She was gripping a piece of history, not just a rock. Being here, walking among the dense undergrowth and towering trees, was so much better than sitting behind a desk all day, merely _talking_ about what she was now seeing. Even the moments of danger, the wounds she had received from unknown assailants, were worth it. This is what she had needed.

Sam was laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. “God, you are such a nerd.”

She scowled and sat down next to him, leaning her back against the same tree trunk. “Hey, if I am so are you. I've been stuck listening to you go on and on about pirates for nearly two months now.”

Olette had never heard so many stories about pirates and long dead adventurers. If Sam wasn't busy flirting with her or giving Sully a hard time he was talking about Anne Bonny, or Henry Avery, or the multitude of others that she had never even heard of. Being with Sam was like taking a history course.

“That's because pirates are cool,” Sam said, teasing her.

“So are rocks.” Olette still held the sandstone in her hand, using it as evidence. She realized how silly she must look then, face wet from the creek, feet bare and buried in the dirt, and holding onto a rock like it was the most interesting thing in the world. She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, and soon Sam joined in. She tossed the rock into the creek and watched as it sunk to the bottom.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “Maybe pirates are cooler than rocks.”

“Ah, now you're coming around.” Sam lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulders, shutting his eyes once again.

They dozed in the shadow of the trees for a while longer, then put their packs on once again and set off, following the path of the creek. There was no real trail; they were too far into the forest for that. Instead they found the signs of animal trails, the ground worn down from the feet of whatever creatures lived here. They stayed close to the creek, which turned into a river some miles north. As the day went on the air turned thick and humid, causing Olette's hair to frizz and curl. She hastily tied it up into a bun, but spent a lot of time unsticking pieces of it from the back of her neck as they came loose.

Both her and Sam were soaked in sweat by the afternoon. It was hotter now that the sun was high in the sky, and even the dense cover of the trees did little to stifle the thick, warm air. They took turns splashing water from the creek onto their faces, or their shoulders. The cool water kept them comfortable for only a few minutes before their skin was dry once again.

They had talked through most of the morning. Trading stories and opinions, talking about what they would do with their share of the treasure. The banter had slowed as the day went on, both of them too hot and tired to speak.

When they stopped to refill their water bottles from the river, filtering it through a water purifier just in case, Olette turned to Sam with a playful grin. She was tired of the silence, and since they were taking a break from walking, she started up the conversation again.

“Sam, wanna hear a joke?”

He continued to pump away at the water filter, but nodded with enthusiasm. “Heh. Go for it, Olly.”

“Why wasn't the geologist hungry?” she asked, recalling a joke she had heard many times while in college from old professors who thought they were still young and funny.

“I don't know, why?”

Olette held up another rock she had found among the river bed, barely suppressing a giggle. “He lost his apatite.”

Sam looked from her to the rock, a piece of apatite, then back to her. “That's it. You're fired,” he said, though Olette was certain the corner of his lips turned up into a small smile. She could hold her own with bad jokes, and if two months with Sam and Sully had taught her anything it was that there was no shortage of puns in the world.

After their bottles were filled with the cold river water they moved on. Olette figured they were getting close to the base of Mount Roraima, as the river and game trails they were following were beginning to slope gently up.

She was breathing heavy when Sam spoke from somewhere behind her.

“Okay, I got one.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, brushing the hair out of her face yet again. She assumed he meant a joke, as they had not said much between now and when they had stopped for water.

“Yeah. Why did the geologist take his girlfriend to the quarry?”

“Why?”

“He wanted to get a little boulder.” The sound of Sam's chuckling behind her made Olette groan. He sounded so proud of himself. “Get it. Bolder? Boulder? Cause, you know. Rocks”

“Good job. That was a good one.”

Sam hurried to catch up with her, and soon he was walking beside her instead of behind. She caught the happy look on his face and mirrored it. Even through the layer of sweat and dirt he was handsome.

“I can do this all day,” he said, waving his hand towards the river and forest around them. “Plenty of inspiration for jokes.”

“Please don't,” she teased, though in truth she would take his horrible jokes over silence any day. It made their hike through the jungle seem more like a vacation than a race to the treasure. She even forgot about Dover and his men, perhaps somewhere in the jungle with them. It was just her and Sam, enjoying a somewhat arduous trip in a beautiful place.

 

* * *

 

The sun was beginning to dip in the sky when Olette and Sam reached what looked like a dead end. They had been climbing for hours – on switch backs and slopes that rose in varying degrees, through streams that cooled their legs and mud that stuck to their boots. Now they stood on an animal trail leading up the mountain, looking forward over empty space. The trail continued some fifty or so feet ahead, but between them and it was only air. The side of the mountain had crumbled away, falling into the jungle below.

Olette took a step back from the edge, suddenly overcome with a wave a vertigo. Looking down was disorienting. Everything was vivid green and muddled brown, with the hint of a clear blue lake hundreds of feet below. The colors swam in her vision and she shut her eyes to clear them.

“Whoah. That's a big drop,” she said when she recovered.

“What's the matter, scared?” Sam was still at the edge, scanning the cliff face at their side. He turned back to her and smirked. “Cause I can hold your hand if you're scared.”

“You wish.”

Olette hesitantly approached the edge again, this time avoiding looking down. She followed Sam's gaze up the cliff face, then around to the other side. It did not look climbable. That meant going back. She sighed, and rubbed her shoulder under the strap of her pack. They were both tired; Sam was doing his best to hide it from her, but she saw it in the strain of his arms when he pulled himself up over a rock, and in the slowing of their pace. Now they would have to backtrack a few miles down the mountain and try another way. Olette didn't know if her muscles could take it.

“Should we find a way around?” She asked, already turning back.

Sam shook his head and walked over to her, stopping her from beginning the trek back down the trail with a hand on her arm. “Nah, that'll take too long. Here,” he shrugged the pack off his shoulders and dug around in it, finally brining out a length of rope with a metal hook on one end. He handed it Olette, and she took it with a raised brow.

“We'll just swing over,” Sam said, and found another rope in his pack before putting it back on.

Olette examined the rope in her hands. It was thick and heavy, braided into itself for extra stability. The hook on the end looked somewhat like a claw, and she noted that it had marks and scratches on it, like the metal had been chipped away at from frequent use.

Then she saw the tree growing out from a cleft in the cliff. It's roots were gnarled and old, holding onto the rock face with a tenacity that kept it in place where others had only grown and fallen. The tree's trunk jutted out in the open air, spreading its branches out above her. It was right in the middle of the missing path, a perfect anchor to toss their ropes over and swing to the other side.

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyeing the tree and wondering if it would hold their weight. The image of it pulling out from the cliff and tumbling to the forest floor below with her in tow flashed in front of her eyes. She took another unconscious step back from the end of the trail.

“Yeah, no problem,” Sam said as he unfurled the rope in this hands. This was nothing new to him, just another stunt he had done hundreds of times. “Just watch me, and do what I do.”

Sam stepped up to the edge of the cliff and spun the metal hook like a lasso. The muscles in his forearms tightened as he gripped the rope, then relaxed as he let go. The rope flew through the air, the hook latching onto the tree and wrapping around the trunk almost faster than Olette's eyes could follow. Sam gave the rope in his hand a tug, making sure it was secure.

“It'll be fun,” he said with a grin.

_It'll be dangerous_ , Olette thought. The only times she could remember swinging on a rope were from years ago, out across a placid lake in her hometown. During the summer her and the local kids would throw themselves off of the rope and into the water. The highest she had swung from could only have been ten feet. The drop below her now was twenty times that.

“What if I can't get the hook on the tree?”

Sam had made it look easy. One quick toss and the hook had gone right where he wanted it to. Olette did not think she would be so lucky.

“I'll swing back over and do it if you need me to. But you'll be fine.”

His confidence in her was appreciated, and already Olette felt better about crossing the gap. Maybe it _would_ be fun. And if not, it would at least land them on the other side of the trail, and that much closer to making camp for the night.

“See you on the other side,” Sam said, and without so much as a deep breath, leaped off the cliff and into the open air.

Olette's heart hitched in her chest. She waited for the branch to snap, for Sam to lose his grip. The sight of him suspended above the ground far below with nothing to stop him from falling was more anxiety inducing than being faced with another round of men with guns. She held her breath, unable to let it out.

_What if he fell?_ What could she do? She would be forced to watch as he smashed to the ground, the impact surely killing him. She wouldn't be able to do a thing. Was this what Sully had warned her about? Sam rushing off without thinking things through, only to wind up hurt, or worse. She should have stopped him, should have insisted they find another way.

Sam landed safely on the other side, graceful as a cat. Relief washed over Olette and she let out her breath, the hammering of her heart slowing before realizing that it was now time for her to jump.

“Alright, Olly, your turn,” Sam yelled from across the gap. He had somehow coiled the rope back in, the hook that once held it in place back in his hands.

She gave him a thumbs up and headed towards the edge of the cliff. It wasn't too far across, she told herself. From here it wasn't far at all.

The rope in her hand was rough, the little bristles of nylon rubbing against her clenched fist. She swung it in her hand to gain momentum, just as she had seen Sam do. Her first throw missed the tree entirely, the second swiping its branches before moving past it. It was harder than Sam had made it look, and already her arm was getting sore from twirling the heavy metal claw.

The third time was the charm, though, and the hook caught on the broad trunk of the tree and the rope wrapped itself around it. Olette pulled on it, making sure it stayed in place. The rope held, and she tugged again, this time putting more of her weight into it. Sam's rope had held him, and he not doubt outweighed her. The rope would hold her, too.

She inched closer to the edge, her toes curling in her shoes as they touched the last bit of ground beneath her. Sam was watching her from the other side, giving her what was meant to be a reassuring smile but from this distance looked like worry.

_Okay_ , she thought, wrapping her hands tight around the rope. _Here goes nothing._

At first her body refused to move. _Jump_ , she told it, but it remained solidly in the same spot. It seemed to know better than her mind that if she jumped there would be nothing under feet but open air. She had to force it to let go of its self preservation instinct, to trust her belief that the rope would hold her.

When her mind finally won out she more stepped off the edge than jumped. It was enough, though, to pull her down and forward in an arch, swinging towards the other side of the gap. Her stomach plummeted in the moment that the rope took to go taut, reminding her of the feeling of a rollercoaster drop.

Olette realized her eyes were squeezed shut. She opened them and saw the ground far below, and the trail on either side of her. She was slowing down, the momentum gained from her drop alone not enough to reach Sam. She tried to swing with her legs, to force the rope to arc again, far enough for her to get a foot on solid ground.

She did not think she would be on the rope for this long. Her arms began to ache with the strain of holding herself up, her fingers losing feeling as she gripped onto the rope until her joints turned white. She didn't have the callouses on her hands that helped Sam grip the rope so well. Her's were soft and pink, hands that spent time grading papers instead of climbing mountains.

She slid an inch down the rope, then two. The friction tore at her skin, rubbing it away. Panic began to rise in her chest, making it hard to breathe for the thumping of her heart.

“Sam, my hands are slipping!” She yelled, her voice breaking on the last word.

“ _Shit.”_ Sam was already uncurling his own rope again, getting ready to meet her in the middle of the gap. “Don't let go, Olly, just hold on!”

She tried. She tried harder than she had ever tried anything before.

It was not enough. Her hands burned, the rough rope stinging the raw skin until the pain was greater than the pain of the bullet that had grazed her leg. She began to sweat from the effort of keeping herself safe, her palms becoming slick with it.

Her hands slipped. Immediately gravity took over and Olette started to plummet towards the ground. She clawed frantically for the end of the rope but could not reach it, could not stop herself from falling. A scream ripped through her throat, disturbing the peace of the jungle. It echoed off the cliff wall, rebounded up to Sam, who was getting smaller and smaller the further she fell. The air whooshed through her ears, and she felt the sensation of her stomach lurching up into her throat.

_I'm going to die_ , she thought. _After everything that's happened the last two months, this is how it ends._

Olette did not see the water below her until it was everywhere. She had been too focused on looking up, too surprised to see the small figure that was Sam jump off the cliff after her.

When she hit the surface of the lake it felt like cement. The bones in her wrist snapped, the force of impact causing bruises to bloom instantly on her legs. She was under the surface before she knew what was happening, the momentum of her fall plunging her deep into the lake.

She must have lost consciousness from the impact for a second, and when she opened her eyes they stung with the rush of water that filled them. Everything around her was a dim murky blue, and a shroud of bubbles swirled up around her from the air that had been sucked down with her.

It was difficult to tell up from down. Nothing moved in the water around her, no sounds penetrated the silence of the lake. There was no bottom she could see, no sand or rocks to guide her. Had she spun around when she hit the water? Was the way she was facing sideways or down?

What little breath there was in her lungs was running out as Olette frantically searched for a way to tell in which direction the surface lie. She caught the faint hint of light coming from somewhere above her and, praying it was the sun, swam towards it The light grew stronger with each stroke upward, though remained stubbornly out of reach. Her lungs were burning now, and she was overcome with the urge to open her mouth, to take a deep breath in. She fought against it, knowing it would only result in a mouthfull of water.

The edges of her vision were starting to dim now, a blackness creeping in that threatened her consciousness. She made a final push for the light, her arms cutting through the water as fast as they could.

Olette broke the surface of the lake with a gasping breath, gulping down the air until she sputtered and coughed. The world above the water was bright and loud, a welcome and familiar place. Once her lungs no longer felt like they were on fire Olette began to take steady, even breaths. _She was alive._ She could have laughed, if her throat was not raw from coughing. 

“Olly? Olly!”

She spun around towards the sound of Sam's voice. _He had jumped_ , she remembered. When she fell, before she hit the water, Sam had dove in after her. Instead of staying safe, he had followed her. He could have died, both of them lost forever in a tangle of limbs on the lakebed. Yet there he was, not even twenty feet away, treading water as he looked around for her.

“I'm here, over here!” Olette yelled, her voice scratchy and thin.

Sam's look of relief when he turned and saw her was palpable. He swam over, water splashing as his arms made broad and fast strokes. When he reached her he grabbed both her arms with his hands, fingers digging into her skin as if to check that she was real.

“ _Goddamnit.”_ Sam's eyes were wide, his hair wet and plastered to his face. When he spoke he sounded distraught, even scared. “Are you okay? I saw you fall. You just fell and I-”

“I'm alright,” Olette interrupted. She reached a hand out of the water and pushed back a lock of his hair that he had not noticed was over his eyes. She still could not believe he was here next to her, and not a hundred feet above. _What had he been thinking?_

“ _I thought you were dead_. Shit, I thought-”

“It's okay, Sam, I'm okay. We're both okay.”

Sam stopped stammering and looked at her then. Her hair had come undone and it floated around her in a damp mess, the shine of the water on her skin reflecting the lake. She thought she must look half drowned, and in all honesty so did Sam. Their cheeks were flushed from the exertion of swimming up to the surface, their clothes now sheer and clinging to their bodies.

Olette watched as Sam shook his head once, slowly. Something changed in his eyes and she had time to think only of how lucky she was to be alive before his hands moved from her arms to her hair, pulling her towards him through the water. His lips found hers with a crushing pressure, knocking the air back into her lungs. A hand at the back of her head kept her pressed to him, and through the shock Olette closed her eyes and gave in to the kiss.

Sam pulled away a moment later, an eternity too soon. One of his hands shifted to cup her face, his thumb running along her cheek. Olette brought both arms back out of the water and wrapped them around Sam, ignoring the pain in her wrist and leaving her legs to work to keep her afloat. She kissed him again, this time more than ready for it.

His body was flush against her; she could feel the tightness of his muscles through his wet shirt, the kicking of his legs as he treaded water. He tasted of smoke, and sweat, and the protein bars they had shared earlier. It was intoxicating. Her head spun and whether it was from her recent lack of oxygen or from Sam's kiss Olette could not tell. His stubble scratched at her skin, her nails dug into his back. She could not think of anything besides the movement of Sam's lips on hers, the way they were softer than she imagined they would be. If this is what it took, nearly dying, for Sam to kiss her, then she would do it again without hesitation.

Breathless, they finally broke apart. Sam kept his hold on her, moving his hands down to her waist.

“Don't you _ever_ do that again.” He said, his wide grin betraying his tone.

“Fall two hundred feet,” Olette said, also unable to contain the smile on her lips, “or kiss you?”

Sam brought his face in close to hers again, his breath hot on her skin. “Oh, you better kiss me again.”

 


	11. Descent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I actually was working on two chapters - there is a mini smut chapter in between ten and eleven that is not posted here, so those of you who do not want smut do not have to read it. It does not have any bearing on the plot so you can totally skip it and be fine. If you do want to read it, though, you can find it on my works page, or in the Fools Like Us series page. It is titled Fools Like Us - Smut Companion. Enjoy!

Olette woke to the sound rain pattering on the ceiling of the tent. It was a light sound: gentle and constant, a hum of white noise that threatened to lull her back to sleep if she did not open her eyes. She was tempted to let it as she lay there, to slip back into the dreamless slumber that was so comforting.

Her legs were stiff and sore from the hike through the jungle, her wrist a dull endless pain where it had hit the lake during her fall. She would rather keep her eyes shut and listen to the rain surround her than wake up and put her aching body back to work.

But then she recalled the night before, and Olette could not open her eyes fast enough.

Sam was laying beside her, his arm tossed protectively over her stomach. He was half covered in the unzipped sleeping bag that they had used as a blanket, the one beneath them scrunched up like a pillow where his head was resting. The creases on his face were smoothed out in slumber, and strands of hair stuck to his neck and cheeks, the humid air leaving a fine layer of sticky sweat over his body. A pile of clothes in the corner of the tent rendered them both bare, Sam's skin tanned and sun worn compared to hers.

They had spent the night together in the tent, exploring each others bodies the way Olette had wanted to from the moment she had met Sam. Their game of flirting had finally ended, only to evolve into the heat of passion and desire. Sam had been at once ravenous and gentle, only letting her rest after both of them were too exhausted to do more than press lazy kisses onto the other's lips. The months of tension left them eager to touch and indulge, and by the end of the night Olette was certain the wait was worth it.

Now that the light of the sun, dulled by the rain clouds, was chasing the shadows in the tent away, Olette was not certain where things stood. Would she and Sam go back to the way it was before he kissed her? Dancing around their attraction and growing feelings like the school children she taught what felt like years ago. Was one night of passion in this dream like jungle all that they would have? Olette found herself hoping that was not the case. She was drawn to Sam; to the way he dove headfirst into things, to the way he always had a grin and a joke ready, to the way he kissed her like she might be taken away at any moment. She did not know if she could go back now, to hide again the desire to touch him, to be _with_ him.

She could hardly resist it even now. The way Sam was laying, on his side, his legs stretched out almost to the far end of the tent, gave her a full view of his body, the muscles relaxed in sleep. Olette reached out and ran her fingers around the scars on his side, feeling the ridges press up from the smooth surrounding skin. The three bullet wounds were old and faded now, years softening the pain and memory. Yet still they stood out on him, the evidence that Sam's life had never been easy.

Her touch roused Sam from his sleep, and he shifted his arm further around her and pulled her close. Olette rolled to her side so they faced each other, draping her own arm over Sam's waist. His eyes opened and found hers, the ghost of sleep leaving and being replaced with a dreamy glow.

“Good morning, honey,” he said, voice thick and warm.

Olette's heart leaped at the term, and she wiggled herself closer to Sam until she could tangle her legs over his. “Honey?” she asked, playfully skeptical.

“Don't like it? I got loads more.” Sam smiled, and this close Olette could feel the heat of his breath. “Babe, kitten, _sexy_?” His hand slid down her hip as he spoke, edging its way towards her thighs.

“Honey is good,” she answered, closing the gap between them with her lips.

They stayed that way for a while, hands roaming their exposed skin and kissing to the sound of the rain outside. Sam pulled away eventually and ran a hand through Olette's hair.

“Mmm. Fuck the treasure. Let's stay here.”

“Did I just hear that right?” Olette asked, a look of mock shock on her face. “Samuel Drake, renowned adventurer, say _fuck treasure_?”

“Heh, I got a treasure right here.” Sam rolled to his back, hands moving to grasp Olette's waist and lift her up on top of him.

They made love again, this time languid and slow. Instead of the rush and frantic energy of last night there was a peace about it, their bodies moving in time with the rhythm of the rain. Olette's lips were never far from Sam's, and even after they finished they remained pressed close to each other, limbs entwined and breath mixing.

The morning passed with more speed than Olette wanted. The light in the tent grew stronger, a sure sign that the day was moving on without them.

“How's your wrist?” Sam asked gently touching the bandage he had wrapped around it last night to keep it straight and combat the swelling.

“It's okay. The bandage should be enough for now.” Olette flexed her fingers and winced. The pain was bearable, and all in all she was lucky that was the only injury she suffered during her fall. With her other hand she reached up to Sam's shoulder and began massaging it. “What about your shoulder?”

When Sam had jumped into the lake after her he had broke the surface with his shoulder. Dark blue and black bruises bloomed on his skin, the edges already turning a sickly yellow.

“The nail marks on it? I could use a few more,” Sam teased and gave Olette the most effortless wink she had ever seen. He leaned into her hand as she continued to rub at the tender muscles of his shoulder. “It's nothing some pills can't help, and maybe a trip to the hospital after we get outta here.”

“Speaking of....” Olette looked up at the ceiling of the tent, suddenly aware of birdsong. The rain had eased, leaving the air humid and heavy. “The rain's stopped. We should get going, Dover's men could-”

“Hey, don't worry about that. We're miles ahead of those guys.” Sam interrupted her by putting a hand on her cheek. For a moment she could not remember what she was going to say – the way Sam's eyes stared into hers took the words from her mind.

He leaned forward and kissed her, his lips lingering long enough for the heat in Olette's body to start rising again. “But you're right,” he said, pulling away. “The treasure awaits, and the sooner we get it, the sooner I can get you back to a real bed.”

They dressed reluctantly, knowing when they left the haven of the tent it would be back to tromping through the jungle and what hazards waited for them. Their banter was playful as they dismantled the tent and packed away their things. The preparations to leave the lakeside were peppered with pauses to kiss and graze each others arms and backs with hands that now seemed unwilling to be far from each other.

The sun was almost directly overhead when they were ready to leave. They sat down by the lake, Olette's feet deep in the water and Sam's arm around her shoulders as they looked at the map spread out on their laps. She studied it for a while until settling on a mid sized blue dot that she thought was the lake they were now at. They had travelled a good fifteen miles yesterday, but whether that was in the right direction or not Olette did not know.

“How far off course did that fall take us?” Sam asked, glancing up to where the trail they were on yesterday was hidden by trees.

“Pretty far. But it's not like we had a real destination anyway,” Olette said, shrugging. “We can follow the river that feeds this lake now; it heads west around the mountain. It might be a good thing that we fell, actually. Look.” She pointed to the spot on the map where the thin line of the river coming off of the lake began to cross a patch of contour lines huddled close together. It showed a sudden increase in elevation, likely the point were the mountain shot up from the ground. “I bet where it meets the base here there will be a waterfall, or at least some kind of run off.”

Sam voiced his agreement and soon they were off again, following the river west towards what Olette hoped was the hidden location of the treasure.

 

* * *

 

The day was much the same as the one before. They hiked through the jungle, packs weighing them down and sweat running in rivulets down their backs from the humid air. They followed the course of the river, keeping close to its banks whenever possible for the mild relief the cool water offered. Olette spent much of the day leading the way and picking the best path to cross the river when needed. More than once Sam commented on enjoying the view, and made it clear he meant watching her walk in front of him and not the nature around them.

Their course did not ascend as much as it did yesterday, which left them with more opportunity to talk while they made their way towards the base of the mountain. Sam told her about the orphanage he grew up in, the way he snuck his little brother out at night. He spoke a lot about Nathan, who Olette had come to think of as a mini Sam. She wondered if she would ever get to meet him, as Sam made it clear he did not think his brother's treasure hunting days were truly over. When it was her turn to share she told Sam about the most troublesome students she had, and how she spent summers in college backpacking.

It was comfortable and easy, and before Olette knew it they had walked for hours. The sun was high in the sky, filtered through the canopy until it was patched and golden. Sam was in the middle of saying something about tattoos when they walked past the tree line into a large clearing. The dirt and mud beneath their feet turned to slabs of stone and pebbles, rising out of the ground like tombstones. At the far end of the clearing the rocks were lost in a pool of crystal clear water, and had they been closer Olette was certain she could make out the bottom, shrouded in darkness but visible none the less. Feeding the pool and supplying it with gentle waves was a waterfall that towered above them, plunging from far up the mountain side. The emerald green of the trees and the sun bleached white of the stone complimented the shimmering blue of the water tumbling down the cliff side. The clearing looked idyllic, like it was straight out of a fairy tale. Olette half expected to see a cottage tucked away, housing a snow white princess and contingent of small bearded men.

“Wow,” she said, stopping in her tracks at the tree line. She heard Sam's long exhale as he caught up to her.

“Damn, that's something,” he said. Then, with more enthusiasm, “this has _got_ to be where Bonny left her treasure.”

Olette could not help but smile at Sam's optimism. It was certainly plausible that this was the right spot; but there were likely dozens of other places around the mountain that could _also_ be the right spot.

“Maybe,” she said, doing her best to avoid sounding too pessimistic. “It's only the first place we've found though.”

“Well maybe lady luck is on our side.” Sam nudged past Olette, already headed towards the waterfall. He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Let's take a look around, shall we?”

Olette followed Sam towards the pool, then branched off to scout around the west side of it. She bent down to cup some water into her hands and splash her face, enjoying the crisp and cool feeling as it washed the sweat away. She stood back up and wandered around the rocks, eyes looking from one thing to the next. She was not sure what exactly she should be looking _for_ , as the clues on the necklace only stated that the treasure would be by water. Olette sighed and kicked around at the loose pebbles. It would be too much to ask for the treasure to be sitting out in an ornate chest for them to easily see, like in all those pirate cartoons. Judging by the steps they had already went through in their search for Anne Bonny's treasure, it was certain to be hidden far from sight. She picked up a rock out of a habit, only half hoping it would uncover some red X to guide her.

“Holy shit.”

Olette looked up at Sam's voice coming from somewhere near the waterfall.

“Olly, get your sweet ass over here,” he yelled, and Olette realized he was _behind_ the rushing water. She put down the rock that was in her hand and headed over, carefully treading over the slippery stones near the water's edge.

Behind the waterfall was the entrance to a cave. Sam was standing close to one of the walls, busy inspecting the stone face. He looked over when she entered, and beckoned her closer.

“Look at this,” he said, pointing to something on the wall.

Olette leaned forward, bringing her face close to whatever it was that Sam was so excited about. There, etched into the stone, was a picture of what looked like a horse with wings extending from its back. The carving was old and worn, the spray from the waterfall having eroded away much of the original work. She squinted her eyes in an attempt to make the image clearer.

“Is it some kind of pegasus?” she asked, running her fingers over the jagged lines.

“It's Anne Bonny's sigil,” Sam said, barely masking his excitement. “Now why would this be here if it wasn't where she left her treasure, huh? What'd I tell you; we're lucky today.”

“I'd say we _got_ lucky today,” Olette teased, moving away from the wall. She did not know if it was luck or pure coincidence, but whatever it was, it was starting to make her feel that same rush of excitement that Sam was showing. _They were close to the treasure._ It was real, and after all the trouble they had gone through, they were almost at the end of it all.

Had Sam not slipped his hand down to rest on her lower back Olette might have felt a twinge of apprehension. When they found the treasure, who knew what was next. It might be the last she saw of Sam.

“Damn right we did,” Sam said, sliding his hand ever farther to give her ass a quick squeeze. He kept his hold on her and began to walk deeper in to the cave. “Come on, we must have to go in here.”

Before long the light filtering through the waterfall dimmed and disappeared. Sam and Olette were forced to dig around in their packs to find two flashlights in order to continue. The walls went from moist to dry the farther they walked, the spray and condensation from the waterfall unable to reach the inner recesses of the cave. They were heading consistently down, the slope almost imperceptible. When the walls started to narrow Olette had to walk behind Sam, as there was not enough room to stand side by side.

The air was stale and old by the time they reached a fork in the tunnel. Olette moved into the entrance of one, shifting past Sam as he looked from one fork to the other. So far the path had been clear – no corners or off shoots, just a single tunnel heading down. The structure of it did not make sense to Olette. There should have been other tunnels that branched off, or at least sections of cave that had collapsed. She took another glance at the walls, wondering if Anne Bonny and her men had not altered the cave in some way, perhaps carving it out themselves. At this point, Olette thought anything was possible.

“Look, another sigil,” Sam said, pointing towards a spot on the wall near Olette's arm. She looked down to see another pegasus, this one better preserved in the dry tunnel. “Pretty nice of her to leave us a trail.”

They took the left fork, following the trail the sigil made. Over the next hour they found five more as the tunnel system became large and twisted. The turns and dead ends made Olette feel better; this was a natural place, after all. In some sections they were forced to crouch to make it under the low ceiling, Sam having a much harder time than Olette.

After a while the tunnel began to level out and widen. Olette moved to Sam's side again, wanting to be closer to him than to the inky darkness just outside the range of their flashlights. She thought they must surely be reaching the spot where the treasure was hidden when the tunnel opened up into a larger chamber.

Instead of piles of coins and chests filled to the brim with gold and jewels the chamber held only piles of rocks eroded from the wall, and one clear pool of water where the tunnel was supposed to continue on.

“Shit. Dead end,” Sam said, kicking a rock at this feet and watching it splash into the water. He wandered off to one side of the chamber, his flashlight scattering light over the walls. “Check around, maybe there's a way farther in.”

Olette nodded, though Sam was already looking away. _There should be another sigil_ , she thought, watching the ground pass beneath her feet. On the walls, or the stone floor. All she found was pebbles and a few frantic spiders trying to get out of the beams of her flashlight. She moved to the pool of water, intending to splash some of it on her face.

Something shimmering on the bottom caught her eye. She kneeled down and squinted her eyes, trying to make sense of the glimmering object. _Probably just some copper in the stone,_ she thought. But still she studied it, wanting to believe it was more.

Olette shrugged her pack off and set it to the side. Getting as close as she could to the edge of the pool she laid down on the ground and stretched her arm into the water. A sudden chill ran up her arm and through the rest of her body; the water down here was much colder than on the surface. She locked her jaw and pushed her arm farther in, trying to ignore the ice like sensation. Her fingers wrapped around the shimmering object when her arm was submerged up to the shoulder, and she quickly pulled out of the water when it was firmly in her grasp.

It wasn't copper, Olette realized. It was gold. She turned it over in her hands, shaking away the drops of water clinging to the metal. It was a little smaller than her palm, rounded and smooth, like some type of coin. The etching on it was faded with age but the pegasus symbol was still clear.

“Sam!” she called out, excited. “Look at this.”

Olette stood up and held out the coin to Sam. He took it from her and brought it close to his eyes, examining it. A wide grin broke out on his face.

“Holy shit, nice find Olly.” Sam leaned down and kissed her, gathering her up with an arm around her back. If this was the positive reinforcement she got for finding treasure she would have to do it more often.

Sam broke away and handed her back the coin, which she slipped into a pocket of her shorts. She gestured toward the pool where she had found it.

“I think we have to go through here,” she said.

“Like a passage under the water? You think?”

“Yeah.” Olette walked around the waters edge, looking at the way the top of the tunnel was still free of water. From here it looked like the passage began to descend again. “It could have been dry when Anne Bonny was here, and filled up over the years.”

It was a common occurrence in cave systems like this, and Bonny had been here hundreds of years ago, leaving more than enough time for chambers and tunnels to fill in with water.

“You might be right,” Sam said. “So, we skinny dipping then?”

“Maybe on the way back,” Olette laughed. She nodded towards the pack still on Sam's back. “Let's leave the packs though.”

Sam put his pack next to hers and started towards the water. “Okay, I'll go first and then when-”

“Let me go first,” Olette interrupted.

“I-”

“I'm a good swimmer,” she insisted, moving to stand in front of Sam. He towered over her, looking down at her stubbornly. She crossed her arms over her chest and continued, not ready to let him argue. “I grew up by a lake; I've been swimming my whole life. And with your shoulder...”

She reached out to touch it and Sam flinched back. It was obviously still hurting him. It would be better for her to scout out the tunnel first, to see if it it did indeed lead anywhere. She was worried if Sam went first he would over do it – keep looking for an end when there wasn't one, and by the time he was ready to give up his shoulder would be too sore to swim back. She did not want to risk that.

Sam sighed, defeated. “Fine. But you better come right back the minute you start feeling like you can't hold your breath.”

“I'll be fine, Sam,” Olette said, and pressed up on her toes to give him a quick kiss. “See you soon.”

She waded into the pool, shivering as the cold water covered her. A rash of goosebumps sprung up on her skin, and she had to clamp her mouth shut to keep her teeth from chattering. Instead of diving right in, Olette waded through the pool until only her head was above the water, nearly touching the tunnel ceiling. She turned to gave Sam one last smile, and then plunged deeper in to the water.

The cold washing over her head was a shock. She floundered in the water for a second before recovering, then opened her eyes. They had the insight to bring waterproof flashlights with them, but even so the light that Olette waved around did little to illuminate the submerged tunnel. She swam towards the darkness ahead of her, only able to make out the area right in front of her eyes.

Swimming through the tunnel was easier than her dash towards the surface of the lake yesterday. She moved calmly and steadily, knowing she could turn back any time she needed. She hoped she did not have to, but the fact that she was in less danger here did not go unnoticed.

When her lungs began to ache Olette thought it was time to turn around and start her way back. She did one last sweep ahead of her with her flashlight and noticed a subtle change in color at the far reaches of its light. She did not hesitate, did not stop to think she was doing the same thing she worried Sam would have done. Olette continued forward despite the pain that was beginning to surge up her lungs.

Her disregard was worth it. She broke the surface of the water on the other side of the passage. The tunnel looked much at the same as it did where she had left Sam; a wide open chamber, with another tunnel leading down at the far end. She spotted the worn sigil of Anne Bonny on the wall near the water. They were still going the right way.

She swam back through the tunnel, this time moving as quick as she could. When she emerged from the water Sam hurriedly reached down and pulled her up.

“Finally,” he said, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to help fend off her shivering. “I was about to go in after you.”

Olette let Sam warm her, and noticed the relieved look in his eyes. She did not doubt that he would have dove in after her if she had taken much longer – the laces of his shoes were already untied, like he was getting ready to take them off. The sentiment was sweet. He was worried about her, perhaps more than he had been before. She smiled as he kept attempting to dry her off.

“What?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Nothing,” she answered. She stepped closer to Sam, letting her body press against his for warmth. He groaned as her wet clothes touched him. Laughing, Olette pulled away and gestured towards the pool.

“It goes though. We can swim and come out on the other side.”

They made it through the submerged tunnel with no issues, leaving their heavy packs behind minus the necklace that Olette removed from its pocket and hooked around her neck. Once on the dry cave floor again they took a few minutes to shake off the cold, Ollete ringing out her hair and Sam insisting that their clothes would dry faster _off_ of them. After promising him she would try his method _next_ time they left the rounded chamber by means of the passageway on the far wall.

This time they did not have far to go. The tunnel ended abruptly in an ornate door, carved from the stone wall itself. On it was Anne Bonny's sigil, split in two by a slight crack in the middle of the door.

Sam raced ahead of her to study it. Once she caught up Olette could tell the crack was not just a fracture in the stone, but the middle of what was a double door, and not just one. She expected there to be something more to it, that it could not just be a simple barrier. Some type of puzzle or clue. But when Sam pressed his shoulder into it and pushed, the doors gave way.

They stepped over the threshold and into another large chamber. This one, however, was not merely natural stone walls and nondescript shadows. Lined along the walls were carved statues, some of which Olette assumed were Anne Bonny herself, and others she did not recognize. The ground under her feet had been leveled and carved into a pattern of hexagons. She shone her flashlight up towards the ceiling but could not make it out before the shadows took over. In the far side of the room was another statue, this one made to look like the pegesus of Bonny's sigil, and in front of it a small podium.

“This is amazing,” Olette whispered, unconsciously lowering her voice so as not to disturb the heavy silence of the chamber. “I didn't think things like this actually existed.”

She took a hesitant step farther into the room, a thick layer of dust leaving clear impressions of her footsteps.

“Oh they do,” Sam said, and then he was already half way across the room, heading towards the podium. Olette followed more slowly, her eyes shifting from one statue to the next in awe. She had only seen carvings like this in museums before, items that had long ago been discovered and put away for safe keeping. That there were some here, hidden for centuries, was amazing.

Sam was standing by the podium when she reached it. It was made from the same stone as the statues, and rose up from the floor to about waist height. On its surface was a depression that started thin and ended with a golfball sized circle in the middle. Etched along the edges of the podium were the same words on the necklace - w _here three are one, the earth will cry and there will my treasure lie._

“The necklace must go in here,” Olette said, and began to reach up to unhook it from her neck.

“Ah, ah. Let me be the gentleman.” Sam moved her hands away and turned her so he could reach her back. He brushed her hair away and she was reminded of the night in the hotel when he had done the same thing, and how much she had wanted to kiss him then. When the necklace was off she spun around and pressed her lips to his cheek, happy now that she could do so. Sam raised his brows in question, but she only shrugged. She would take any opportunity she had to kiss him now, to make up for lost time.

Sam brought the necklace to the podium and held it above the depression. “You ready to find your first treasure?”

“Just hurry up and put it in,” Olette said, too eager for Sam's games, or to even notice the unintentional innuendo in her demand.

With one last smirk, Sam put the necklace into its place, arranging the chain to fit the in the thin depressions that splayed out from the center of the podium. When the sapphire rested in the right spot there was an audible click of machinery beginning to churn. Olette and Sam took a few steps back as the floor next to the podium began to shift. They stood in watched in silence as the previously even stone floor turned into broad, steep steps. A thin cloud of dust rose into the air as rock that had not been disturbed in a hundred years ground against itself.

When the machinery stopped the chamber was left in an eerie quiet, the dust once again settling, content to remain in place for another hundred years. Crestfallen, Olette looked down to where the stairs were lost in darkness.

“You didn't think it was going to be that simple, did you?” Sam said from her side. He did not sound daunted at all; to him this was merely the next leg in their adventure.

“I hoped.”

“Where's the fun in that?” Sam reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. He pulled her towards the stairs, ready to take two at a time if it got him to the next room faster.

“Down we go,” he said, and the grin on his face as wide as Olette had ever seen it.

 


End file.
